


if i told you i need you, is that what you want

by magnetichearts



Category: Never Have I Ever (TV)
Genre: 5+1 Things, Banter, Bickering, Dating, Developing Relationship, Domestic Fluff, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Established Relationship, F/M, First Dates, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Kissing, Love Confessions, Sexual Content, Smut, also they're stupid soft with each other throughout this like there's zero angst, an obscene amount of fluff, and i take fucking PRIDE in that ok?, fluff with no plot really, i finished this whole fic so it just like depends on when i can update lollllll, i stg if anyone has the audacity to tell me this has a plot, i'll fuckin lose it, ion care if that's not in character, it does not have a plot, it's what i wrote so, leila's like the only one who's happy about that she's wanted this for four months asdfjkhafdskjhfk, lots of metaphors too i wax way too much poetic, oh and also no word count control cause it do be me, zero semblance of a plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-07
Updated: 2020-11-02
Packaged: 2021-03-06 15:21:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 58,547
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26331043
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/magnetichearts/pseuds/magnetichearts
Summary: “Go out on a date with me?” he asks, lifting their hands up to press a kiss to her knuckles.Devi’s face explodes in a pink blush, and she bites back a smile, and Ben knows what she’s going to say before she even does.“Yeah, ok.”or; the five times ben and devi go on a date, and the one time they don't(title from “if i believe you” by the 1975)
Relationships: Ben Gross/Devi Vishwakumar
Comments: 30
Kudos: 192





	1. date one (one day)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [flashlightinacave](https://archiveofourown.org/users/flashlightinacave/gifts).



> hey guys! so this idea has been a _really_ long time coming, i thought of it way back before i even started coming up with the multichaptered fic i wrote and completed. i've been making leila wait like four months for this day lol, so i decided to put her out of her misery and give her this
> 
> it's like. 100% softness and tbh idk if ben and devi would act like this ever, in fact, i don't think they _would,_ but also i don't care because this is my fic and i can do whatever the hell i want this is 2020 and miss corona has fucked up everything else let me have my stupid soft babes
> 
> this fic is all totally written and the update schedule just depends on when i can sit down and edit the remaining chapters. i start classes in a few days, so no promises, but i hope you find it enjoyable!
> 
> each chapter will be a different date in their relationship except for the last one (duh, bhargavi) and i had a LOT of fun coming up with the dates for each one. for all of you horny people out there, the smut is coming in chapter four, so you'll have to wait a little bit for it lMAO
> 
> this first one was so fucking fun to write, and i had a great time envisioning everything that happens in this chapter. i hope you love the date as much as i do, lol
> 
> leila, you've been waiting for this fic for what seems like eternity, and i know you're incredibly excited for it, so as a thank you for being the greatest friend ever, and a gift for starting your second year of uni, this is for you. i love you, and i really fuckin hope you like this. you're actually the greatest in the world for being so patient when it comes to this, and if you have half as much fun reading it as i had writing it, i'll be happy. hope it puts a smile on your face before you throw yourself back into the uni heyday! ❤️❤️❤️❤️
> 
> ok guys, enjoy the fic!

Looking back on it, he  _ thinks _ he might have chosen a rather inopportune moment to ask her. 

Ben’s not a casanova, no matter how much he likes to pretend he is, but even he knows the best time to ask someone out on a date isn’t in the back closet of a Halloween party while making out. 

It’s just—he kind of can’t really process things properly when Devi’s hands are twisting in his hair and her mouth is pressed against his and she tastes like cherries and cheap beer and it should  _ not _ be as intoxicating as it is, but, oh well. 

“Go out with me,” he breathes, sinking his teeth into her lip, tugging on it as he pulls her closer, impossibly closer. 

Devi freezes, hands still in his hair. “W—what?” she stutters out. 

Ben closes his eyes, cursing himself. This—was  _ not _ how he pictured this going. But he can’t take the words back, and, he finds, he doesn’t want to.

“Don’t get me wrong, David,” he drawls, “sneaking around with you and just making out is a lot of fun, but I think we can do a little more than that.” 

She blinks at him, eyes a bit glazed, though becoming sharper with every moment. “You—you want to take me out? Like, on a date?” 

He nods. “Yeah. If—if that’s what you want.” 

They  _ haven't _ really talked about what they wanted, mostly just made out, really. Devi had come to pick her stuff up about three weeks ago, after Malibu, and he had been there. Instead of talking, she had grabbed him, kissed him, and he had kissed her back. And now, they’ve just been lowkey making out for a few weeks, without any sort of discussion as to what they are. 

And—don’t get him wrong—making out with Devi is like, the greatest thing in the world, but he wants  _ more _ with her. He wants to hold her hand and press kisses to her cheek and be able to wrap his arm around her shoulders when they’re watching movies. 

Devi worries at her lip. “Is that what you want?” 

Ben nods. He slides his hand down her arm and laces their fingers together, gripping them tightly. “Go out on a date with me?” he asks, lifting their hands up to press a kiss to her knuckles. 

Devi’s face explodes in a pink blush, and she bites back a smile, and Ben knows what she’s going to say before she even does. 

“Yeah, ok.” 

* * *

When he gets ready for their date, next week, he wonders, ephemerally, if he is doing too much. 

He’d gotten them a reservation at Bellini’s, the best French food in the San Fernando Valley, he’s been practicing his driving so he can take them to the restaurant without killing them, and he’s wearing one of his best suits. 

(ok, look, he  _ might _ be going a bit overboard, but he really likes devi. like, really, really likes her. he’s not sure he’s liked anyone else this much, and he really doesn’t want to fuck everything up on their first date)

He tells himself that it’s fine, what he’s doing. This will impress Devi. It definitely will. 

To be honest, things between them have changed so quickly that he’s not exactly sure how to navigate himself. His ideas for the future—and oh,  _ fuck, _ that’s a thing, right, the future—with Devi have largely involved them making out in closets and a few other locales, not like, a  _ date. _

Except he really wants to date her. Like, he definitely wants to date her. 

It’s gonna be ok. He’s gonna sweep her off her feet like all those guys in the movies that he knows she loves but will never admit to. It’s gonna be great. 

(fuck, he wants to hurl) 

Ben’s hands shake as he knots his tie. Glancing at his Rolex, he notices he’s got to leave like, now, if he wants to get to Devi’s house in time for their reservation. 

He grabs his car keys and slips them into his pocket, willing himself not to sweat too much. It would be the worst thing in the world if he showed up at Devi’s house with sweaty pits because he was too much of a fucking nerd to get it together. 

Ben grabs the bouquet of lilies that he bought for her, contemplating, for a quick moment, if it’s too much. Eventually, though, he decides to grab them regardless, tossing them into the passenger seat as he slides into the driver’s. He starts the car, and notices his hands are impossibly sweaty as he curls them around the steering wheel. 

He’s got this, he’s got this, he’s got this. 

Ben drives impossibly slow the whole way to Devi’s house, refusing to stand her up because he died in a fiery car crash because he was so nervous he couldn’t fucking pull himself together. He glances over at the flowers every now and again, nerves intensifying as he does so. Too much? 

No. It’s not. It’s ok. 

Ben pulls up in front of Devi’s house and kills the engine, and, for a fleeting moment, the urge to run is beyond overwhelming. But it fades, after a second, and the reality of his situation sets in. He’s going on a date. With  _ Devi. _

For a second, all the nerves melt away and giddiness replaces it, and a huge smile crosses his face. She agreed to  _ date _ him. He gets to take Devi on a date. 

And, if everything goes well, he gets to take her on more dates. He gets to hold her hand and kiss her cheek and kiss  _ her, _ he gets to wrap his arm around her shoulders and gets to be with her. 

(but, a voice in the back of his mind reminds him, rather unhelpfully, if things go bad he doesn’t get to do  _ any _ of that. and, he might lose her as a friend too) 

Ok, now he’s just catastrophizing. It’s gonna be ok. 

It’s then that Ben realizes he’s been lurking in front of Devi’s house for—going on five minutes, like a goddamn creeper—and he should probably get going. 

He nearly throws himself out of the car in his nerves, and breathes out, trying to calm the rapid-fire pace of his heart. Ben smooths his hand down his shirt and grips the bouquet in his hands like it’s his lifeline. “You got this, Gross,” he mutters, to himself. “You got this.” 

Ben jogs up the steps of Devi’s house, well, the singular step, and rings the doorbell. 

Not ten seconds later, Devi’s cousin, Kamala, swings open the door, and he breathes a sigh of relief and fear that it’s not her mother. 

“Hello, Ben,” she says, smiling. Her eyes crinkle up as she opens the door a bit further for him to step in. “How are you?” 

“I’m good,” he says. “Um, where’s Devi’s mom?” 

“Right here,” Nalini says, materializing. 

He thinks he lets out a small whimper as he turns around to see Devi’s mom, staring at him with narrowed eyes, her arms crossed. “Hi, Dr. Vishwakumar,” Ben says. 

(oh god is this what people felt like marching into war?) 

“Benjamin,” she says, stepping into the room. “Where are you taking my daughter tonight?” 

“Uh—Bellini’s.” 

“Mm. Her curfew is 11. Not a second later,” Nalini snaps. 

Ben nods, completely terrified. “Oh—ok.” 

Nalini smiles then, just the slightest touch of softness gracing her lips. “Good. Be safe, ok?” 

The sudden change in Nalini’s demeanor nearly gives Ben whiplash, but he manages to nod again, incapable of speech. 

“Devi! Ben’s here!” Kamala calls, stepping over to the staircase. 

“I’ll be right down!” she calls back. 

“So, Benjamin, tell me, what colleges are you looking at?” 

Ben chats with Devi’s mom a bit about the schools he’s hoping to get into (Yale, of course) while he waits for Devi to come down, but he doesn’t have to wait long. In fact, he’s just launching into the explanation of the internship he hopes to do at his dad’s work when he hears the stairs creak behind him. 

He turns, and tries not to let his eyes bug out of his head at the sight of Devi in possibly the hottest dress ever. It’s not ridiculously short, and the neckline isn’t insanely low, but what it is is  _ red. _

Fire-engine, crimson, carmine, cardinal, flaming red. She’s  _ stunning. _ It’s like the very color was made to be worn by her, made to be on her skin. 

“Ben,” she says, stepping towards him. He tries not to let his gaze linger on her legs, for too long, but he’s not sure how well he succeeds, gulping when he sees the strappy sandals she’s wearing. 

“Hi,” he breathes. 

Devi smiles, a bit awkward and tight, tilting her head to the side. “What do you got there, Gross?” she smirks, eyes darting to his hand. 

“Oh!” He suddenly remembers the flowers he’s gripping in his hands, so tight he’s worried he’s crushed the stems, and thrusts them at her. 

Unfortunately, he misjudges the distance between them, and ends up nearly punching Devi in the face with the lilies. 

“Oof,” she grunts, grappling to hold them, and Ben winces as he feels his face flush. 

“So—sorry!” 

Devi’s hands curl around the flowers, and she pulls them away from her face. “It’s fine,” she drawls, gaze dropping to the petals. “They’re nice,” she adds, a bit softer. 

He rubs the back of his neck with his hand. “You think so?” 

She gives him another smile then, real and bright. “Yeah. They’re beautiful.” 

“So are you,” he blurts out. 

Devi’s cheeks tinge pink. “Oh.” 

“Anyways,” Kamala interjects, and Ben feels his face flush even more when he realizes that the older women are still standing there, watching him make a fool out of himself. “I’ll take the flowers for you, Devi, so you and Ben can get going.” 

Nalini eyes her daughter critically. “Remember Devi, this is a trial. If you return home to me in one piece, I might consider letting you do this again.” 

Devi gives her mother a one-armed hug. “I know, Mom.” 

Ben clears his throat. “You ready to go, Devi?” 

She turns to him and smiles. “Yeah.” 

(it's now that he realizes that her lips are painted the exact same color as her dress and now he can’t stop his gaze from drifting down to her mouth, except it’s literally the worst time possible to be thinking about kissing her, cause they haven’t even gone on their date yet and they’re still standing in the middle of her living room and—) 

“What are you waiting for, Ben?” 

He blinks and Devi’s standing by the door, eyebrow arched expectantly. “Are we ever going to leave?” 

“Ri—right.” Ben pulls his car keys out of his pocket and waves goodbye to Kamala and Nalini, following Devi out the door. 

She’s already at the car door when he’s halfway down the path, and he panics, wanting to open the door for her, so he runs, reaching for it at the same time, but ends up crashing into her, knocking heads. 

“Ow,” Devi groans, stumbling back from the car. 

“Oh my god,” he groans. “I’m really sorry, I was just trying to—” 

Devi holds up the hand not pressed to the side of her head up, cutting off his rambling explanation. “I don’t care, Gross. Just—try not to injure me anymore. Remember, one piece, right?” 

He laughs nervously, a bit strangled. “Right.” 

Ben lets her open her own door and slides into his own seat, hoping his hands aren’t shaking so much he can’t drive them safely there. 

Devi clicks her seatbelt on, and suddenly things are—they’re stifling, as he turns the car on. 

(and it’s  _ weird. _ cause things with devi are—not  _ awkward, _ not really. they’ve known each other for a fucking  _ decade. _ he’s known devi almost as long as he’s known himself. their relationship is—it’s beyond words, at times. she’s a million things wrapped up in one person to him. so why is this so awkward?) 

Devi clears her throat. “Um, don’t we have to leave?” 

Ben startles. “Oh, yeah,” he says, fumbling with his keys. Instinctively, he tries to insert the key in the ignition a few times, before remembering that he just has a key fob and his car keys don’t  _ have _ a key part, that he just has to press a button. 

Fuck, he’s fucking losing it. 

He finally  _ does _ manage to get the car started, but before he can start the engine, Devi places a hand on his arm. 

It’s a testament to how insanely worried he is that he nearly leaps out of his own skin when she does this. “Huh? What?” he says, looking over at her. 

He turns to see Devi smiling at him, softly, with a bit of worry in her eyes. “Ben,” she murmurs. “Can I ask you something?” 

(oh fuck, oh fuck, she’s going to ask him if she can leave, isn’t she? she doesn’t want to be on this date with him, he knew it. fuck, how the hell did he manage to colossally mess everything up so soon, how did he manage to drive her off so easily? well, he  _ was _ just being himself, and that’s apparently enough to drive everyone else off so he doesn’t know why he was surprised and—) 

“Oh. Yeah, of course,” he stammers out. He digs his nails into his palm, bracing himself for the inevitable rejection. 

She laughs, reaching a hand up to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear. “Don’t you think it’s kind of weird that we’re both really nervous?” 

Ben breathes out, eyes widening. “W—what?” 

Devi’s hands shake, slightly, and she doesn’t look him in the eyes as she answers. “We’ve known each other for ten years, and we’ve—not really gotten along for most of them,” she laughs. 

“Um, yeah, I guess.” 

Devi looks over at him, annoyance in her eyes, but a smile playing at her lips. “Ben, come on.” 

“Ok, you’re right,” he admits. “I’m just—not exactly sure how to do this.” 

She nods. “Date me?” 

“Yeah. It’s just—new.” 

“Wonder what it says about us that it’s easier for me to yell at you than go on a date with you,” she snorts. 

“Psychologists would have a field day with us.” 

Devi reaches over, taking his hand in hers. “Well,” she murmurs. “I think we can figure it out together, right?” 

Here, her hand in his, Ben feels his nerves wash away for the first time the whole night, as he looks her in the eyes. 

(because at the end of the day, this is still  _ devi. _ the girl who he beat in the science fair and who beat him in the spelling bee, the girl who has always been there, the girl he’s pretty sure he’d do anything for. this is devi, and he knows her as well as he knows himself. being with her is as easy as breathing) 

Ben lifts her hand and presses another kiss to her knuckles, like he did when he asked her out. “Yeah.” He grins at her. “Between the two of us, we can definitely do it. After all, I am the smartest student in our grade.” 

Devi rolls her eyes. “After me, of course.” 

He taps his chin with his finger, unable to stop himself from grinning like an absolute idiot at her. “No, I don’t think so. Which one of us did better on the organic chemistry test last year?” 

“Are you going to keep bringing that up?” she laughs. “You don’t have a more recent example?” 

“I have plenty, David,” he murmurs, “but orgo is fucking hard and I beat you on that.” 

Devi raises an eyebrow playfully. “I just think you don’t have anything better. Now, let go of my hand, and get us some food, please? I’m starving,” 

Ben reluctantly lets go of her hand and shifts the car into drive, pulling away from the curb. “Is this how it’s gonna be for the whole night? You bossing me around?” 

She winks at him. “That’s how it’s been our whole lives.” 

He laughs. “You wish, Devi.” 

“I know I’m right, Ben. So, tell me, are you shelling out the big bucks for Bellini’s?” 

He scratches the back of his neck as he pulls up at a red light. “Maybe?” he says, sheepishly. 

To his surprise, Devi grins at him. “Good. I intend to bleed you dry tonight, Gross. I’m ordering the most expensive thing on the whole menu.” 

“Wouldn’t have expected anything less from you,” he smirks. 

They chat for the rest of the drive to Bellini’s, and it’s easy. It’s way easier than any other date he’s ever been on, because underneath all of the makeup and the styled hair is Devi, and he’s always known how to find balance with her. 

(with devi it is all about balance. they are standing on a tightrope, trusting each other with everything they are right now. suddenly, he realizes why she is his equal in a way no one else in the world is. devi gives him the one thing he has been searching for his whole life: balance) 

“Wait,” he says, when she reaches for the car door. 

She arches an eyebrow at him, but waits, and he unbuckles his seatbelt, hopping out of the car and walking around to the side of the car to open Devi’s door. She rolls her eyes as she steps out of the car, wedge heels clacking against the pavement. “You’re such a sap, Gross.” 

“I think it’s called being a gentleman?” 

“Now, where would someone like you learn that? Classes?” 

He rolls his eyes, opening the door for her and following her into the restaurant. “You don’t need classes when you’re born with charm.” 

“And you haven’t grown since birth,” she quips, eyes sparkling with mirth. 

Ben just sticks his tongue out at her, relishing in being a bit of a child, before stepping away to grab their reservation. 

“Ok,” he says, holding out his arm. “You ready?” 

“Oh,” she laughs, linking her elbow through his, “you’re really going all out. What, was your spirit replaced with that of Mr. Darcy’s?” she says, flicking his forehead. 

Ben rolls his eyes. “I’m taking you out and you still can’t refrain from insulting me?” 

Devi snickers, slipping her arm out of his as she sits down across from him at the table. “Aww, come on, Ben. You would get bored if I stopped.” 

“No, I don’t really think I would.” 

“Well,  _ one _ of us has got to keep your ego under check. Otherwise, you’re gonna get such a big head, you can see it from outer space.” 

“Glad to know you have such an esteemed opinion of me, David,” he drawls. “I really feel so adored.” 

Devi props her elbow on the table—which, seriously, you’re not supposed to do, doesn’t she have  _ manners, _ but there is some part of him that finds it incredibly endearing—and plops her chin in her hand, eyes sparkling. “Aww, Ben,” she says, voice high and breathy. “You’re just so handsome and amazing.” She bats her lashes dramatically. “I just go so crazy around you.” 

He grins, leaning forward and wagging his eyebrows. “Tell me more.” 

Devi reaches out and slaps him on the arm lightly. “You already know what I think about you, Gross.” 

(does he?)

Before he can say anything in response, the waiter appears at their table. 

“Hello, what will you be having today?” 

“I’ll take the coq au vin,” Ben says, shutting his menu. He’s been here before, and it’s pretty much the only thing he likes on the menu. 

(don’t tell devi, because he’s trying to impress her, but he kind of hates french food) 

“Um, I’ll have the fo-ey, the fooy—” she stammers, and Ben can’t help his laugh at the look on the waiter’s face. 

She glares at him from above her menu. “Shut  _ up, _ Gross.” 

“I’m—I’m sorry,” he chokes out, through gales of laughter. “It’s just too funny.” 

She flips him off, earning the horrified stares of the fancy old white people around them, before shoving the menu in the waiter’s face, jabbing harshly at something he can’t see. “I want that,” she insists. 

“The foie gras, mademoiselle,” the waiter repeats, jotting it down quickly on his notepad. “Excellent choice.” 

It also happens to me the most expensive thing on the menu, solely because of the truffles, and Ben bites back a smile. It’s just so  _ Devi, _ the whole exchange. He doesn’t mind that it’s ridiculously, insanely overpriced. 

He’s got money, and frankly, there are few things in the world he’d rather spend it on more than Devi. 

Devi glances back at him as soon as the waiter turns away. “Suck it, Gross,” she crows. “I just ordered some great food and now, I’m gonna bleed you dry  _ and _ enjoy it.” 

Ben leans back in his chair, crossing his arms and smirking. “Do you even know what you just ordered?” 

Devi’s mouth drops open. “I watch  _ Chopped! _ I know food,” she insists, tossing her hair over her shoulder. Her eyes dance with laughter. 

(he wants to lean forward and capture her lips with his and draw that same laughter out of her mouth, he wants her to look at him like that all the time, with joy in her eyes, written over every single inch of her face) 

“Do you really?” he snorts, tapping his finger against his fork. 

“Yes, Ben,” she growls, a flash of white teeth visible when she glares at him. “I know that you have to use the bain-marie for things.” 

“That’s actually for baking, you know.” 

She crumples up her napkin and tosses it at him, smacking him in the face with the satin cloth. “You’re such a dick, you know that?” 

“David, I learned that watching  _ The Great British Bake-off.” _

“It’s actually  _ The Great British Baking Show,” _ she corrects. 

He snorts. “I’m using the proper name for it, not the Netflix name.” 

“Ok, firstly, fuck you, you’re a pretentious dick, and second, can you please just tell me what the fuck I just ordered?” 

“Liver,” he says, relishing in the horrified way her mouth drops open. 

“A—a liver?” she stammers. “Ugh! Are you fucking  _ serious? _ Like, the organ that detoxes you? Like, the actual  _ organ? _ The organ in your body that produces bile and gets rid of cholesterol?” 

“Well, it’s not a  _ human _ liver, Hannibal Lecter. Calm down. It’s a duck liver.” 

“It’s a  _ liver!” _ she shrieks. “How different can it be?” 

“Oh my god, David, calm down,” he smirks. “It’s a duck liver that’s got a bunch of—” 

“I don’t care  _ what _ it has added to it. It’s a fucking  _ liver, _ Gross. I’m not eating a liver.” 

“Your tastes are horrifically juvenile, David. At least my tastes don’t resemble that of a five year old.” 

“Just because I like chocolate milk doesn’t make me five,” she snaps. “I just have superior opinions when it comes to everything. And I’m not eating a liver.” 

Ben laces his fingers together. “No? You wouldn’t even try it? You’re too much of a coward?” 

Devi’s eyes flash dangerously. “You’re just trying to bait me, aren’t you?” He knows she likes a challenge. He can’t be blamed for exercisiing that right now.

He grins. “Depends. Is it working?” 

She holds up a single finger. “One bite. That’s all you’re getting from me, Gross. I will try a single bite of this food, and if I hate it, we’re leaving.” 

“That’s all I wanted from you, David. Taking a risk.” 

She leans forward, tilting her head to the side performatively. “Do you think that’s what we’re doing right now? Taking a risk?” 

He leans forward as well. “Do you want my honest answer?” 

She nods. “Yes. Don’t lie to me.” 

(he won’t. it is in this moment he decides this, for the rest of his lives, for the rest of their lives, even if he never sees her, even if this ends after high school, like most relationships started by sixteen-year-olds are wont to do, even if it just ends, he won’t ever lie to her. or at least, he’ll never, never try) 

“Yes,” he says. “It’s risky. Of course it is.” He clears his throat. “But I think you’re worth the risk.” 

She blushes then, almost as red as her dress. “Do you mean that?” 

He lays his hand out on the table, palm up. “Do you think I’m worth the risk?” 

She stares at his hand, for a split second, and he wonders if he’s made a mistake, before a smile crosses her face. She raises her hand and lays it on top of his, lacing their fingers together. “Yeah,” she whispers. “I think you are.” 

He barely restrains the urge to grab her and pull her up for a kiss, instead gripping her hand as tightly as possible. “Nice to know you think  _ something _ nice about me, David.” 

She laughs, but, he notices, she doesn’t pull his hand away from hers. She doesn’t for the whole time they talk while they wait for their food to arrive, only pulling it away when the waiter sets her dish down in front of her. 

“Ok, Gross,” she says, picking up her fork and knife, poking at the liver suspiciously. “I’m trying this. Like you asked.” 

He bats his lashes now, pouting dramatically at her. “Thank you  _ so _ much, David. Nice to know you care about me that much.” 

Ben starts his own dinner but—and this is totally Devi’s fault, she’s made his brain juvenile—the food is good, but it’s just not what he wants. It doesn’t feel like  _ them. _

He sighs, sitting back in his chair, and watches her continue to poke at the liver. “Gonna eat that any time in this century?” 

She scowls at him. “I said I would try it. I’m just trying to prepare myself for what I’m about to taste.” 

Raising his eyebrows, he smirks at her. “I’m waiting, David.” 

If looks could kill, he’d be six feet under, and he’s a little worried at how tightly she grips her knife, before she’s cutting off the tiniest sliver of the liver that he’s ever seen. 

“Don’t be a chicken,” he smirks. “Come on, you have to actually  _ try _ it.” 

Devi grumbles, but cuts off a larger piece. “You know, I really hate you.” 

“Why did you agree to go out with me, then?” he quips. 

Devi spears her piece of liver on her fork, and holds it up, staring at it critically. “It looks so  _ weird,” _ she whines. 

“Look, you know, the sooner you try it, the sooner we can see if we need to get out of here,” he goads, trying to get her to take the plunge. 

“Fair point,” she says, and then pops it in her mouth. 

Instantly, he bites his tongue at the disgusted look that takes over her face. “Oh, god!” 

“Not a fan, David?” 

She coughs. “Ok, objectively, I admit this might be good, but my brain hates it. Like, really hates it.” 

He smirks. “Don’t worry about it.” Setting down his fork, he waves the waiter over to them. “Can we get the check and take this to go, please?” The waiter nods and sets off instantly. 

“Ben,” Devi says. “I don’t want to waste the food.” 

He waves his hand. “Don’t worry about it. You barely tasted it, and I can give it to my parents whenever they get here.” 

The waiter returns with the boxes and Ben tucks a few bills into the folder, handing it back and grabbing the food. He stands up, and holds out his other hand to Devi. “Come on.” 

She stares at him, blinking a bit dumbly. “What?”

The waiter hands him the bag with the food in it, and Ben waves his hand in front of Devi’s face. “Come on,” he says. “Let’s get out of here.” 

Her eyes flicker between his face and his hand, before a smile breaks over her face, and she slips her hand into his. He pulls her up, lacing their fingers together. “You ready, David?” 

She smirks. “An adventure?” 

He tugs her out of the restaurant, as she laughs, bumping her shoulder into his. “Of sorts.” 

Ben tosses the boxes in the back of his car with his blazer, pulling at his tie to loosen it a bit, rolling his sleeves up. “There,” he sighs. 

Devi laughs. “Why did you wear a suit?” 

Ben ducks his head, cheeks flushing slightly. “I wanted to impress you,” he murmurs, feeling unexpectedly vulnerable. 

(he can’t see her, can’t see the way her face softens and floods with emotion, can’t see how she looks at him, looks at him like he is everything good and solid in the world, can’t see that this is for her, her moment) 

Devi reaches out and lays a hand on his arm. “Ben,” she says softly. “You don’t need to do that.” 

He raises his head and looks at her, eyes holding hers. Her hair falls around her face, wild and contained, all at the same time, like a black hole, a swirling mass that sucks him in. She is so beautiful it makes his heart hurt. 

Ben reaches a hand up and tucks a strand of hair behind her ear. “I don’t?” 

She shakes her head. “No. You forget that I’ve seen you when you started crying over  _ The Lion King _ when I caught you watching it at your place the week I was there.” She pats his cheek, a bit mockingly, although her eyes shine. “You can’t impress me after that.” 

He laughs, warmth blooming in his chest. “So I should just give up now?” 

She trails her fingers down his forearm before giving his hand a quick squeeze. “No,” she murmurs, tilting her head to the side. “Don’t. I like it.” 

(he’ll never give up with her. he thinks he might love her already, an hour into their first date) 

She clears her throat, slipping her hand out of his and shooting him a radiant, bright smile. “So, where are we off to?” 

He nods to the car. “Get in, and see.” 

“Man of mystery?” 

“James Bond has got nothing on me.” 

“Please,” she snorts. “You’re no James Bond.” 

She circles around the car and slides into the passenger seat, as he turns the car on and pulls out of the parking lot of Bellini’s. “What, don’t wanna be my Bond girl, David?” He winks at her playfully, and she laughs, throwing her head back. His eyes trace over the curve of her neck. He wants to follow that same path with his fingers. 

“You just want to see me in a skimpy outfit, Gross.” 

Ben just grins. “Would you ever wear one?” 

“You couldn’t handle it if I did.” 

“Aww, come on, Devi.” He stops at a red light, glancing over at her. The sun has gone down, and the weak streetlights on the street can’t provide enough light for him to see her really, just her eyes. “Not even for me?” 

He hears her breath hitch a little bit, but she just smirks. “You’re incorrigible.” 

“You can’t tell me you don’t like it.” 

“Liking it less and less by the second.” 

Ben pulls into the parking lot. “How about now?” 

Devi looks out the window, and her mouth drops open. “Oh my god, are we eating here?” 

“No,” he says. “Just getting our food.” 

“I love McDonald’s,” she says, reverently. 

“I know. You’re gonna get heart disease at 25, you know that?”

Without looking, she reaches over and smacks him on the head. “I hope you know I sincerely don’t care as long as I get my chicken nuggets.” 

Ben laughs. “Let’s go to the drive through, ok? I know where I want to take you.” 

She glances at him. “You’re really playing up the axe murderer persona here. Should I call 911?” 

“Come on, Devi. Trust me?” 

He’s not sure exactly what it is in his gaze that gets her to break, not sure what is in his eyes that makes her relax, that makes the tension leach out of her shoulders, but there must be something, because she does. “Ok,” she murmurs. “Take me there, please.” 

* * *

It takes them twenty minutes to get their food and head to the lookout location Patty had told him her husband had always taken their kids to when they were younger. Devi’s eyes light up as they park, overlooking the town. “Oh, wow, Ben, this is amazing.” 

He grins. “Come on, let’s get out of the car.” 

“Lover’s lane, and you want us to get out of the car?” she quips, undoing her seatbelt. “You realize you’re setting us up for a modern day Zodiac to come after us, right?” 

“You don’t think that I can protect you?” 

Devi reaches over, punching him in the arm. “With these things that resemble twigs? I don’t think so.”

Still, she gets out of the car, clutching her food, sliding on the hood of the car. “This really is pretty,” she murmurs. 

Before he joins her, he reaches in the back and grabs his blazer, tossing it over his arm and sliding next to her on the roof of the car, carefully setting their food down. “Not nearly as fancy as Bellini’s,” he laughs. 

She glances over at him, popping a french fry in her mouth. “I like it a lot more. Just us.” 

(it breaks something open in him, that she likes the moments with him the best, because he loves these moments with her. ben, devi, and nothing else in the rest of the whole, is his favorite place to be) 

“Me too.” 

“Sorry about the lover’s lane location,” he smirks. 

Devi reaches over and steals one of his chicken nuggets. “I seriously think you’re trying to kill me, Gross. The Zodiac loved to target young couples like us.” 

“So now we’re a couple?” 

“That’s what you want to focus on? Not the fact that we’re in the perfect location for a serial killer to come after us?” 

“Oh, come on, David. Don’t pretend you don’t love this  _ because _ of the whole Zodiac aspect to it. You’re into that shit, aren’t you?” 

“Unsolved crime, one of the most famous killers ever?” she snorts, sipping her soda. “Who isn’t?” 

“Eh. I’ve always preferred the Black Dahlia myself.” 

“That’s respectable,” she says, nodding. “Good one, a classic.” 

“Let me guess, Jack the Ripper?” 

“Everyone is obsessed with Jack the Ripper,” she banters back. 

He laughs, shuffling a bit closer to her, feeling the warmth of her body radiate onto his skin. “He was the first famous serial killer in documented history, and we still don’t know who he is. That’s like, half the mystery.” 

Her laugh is broken off with a shiver when the wind brushes against her, and her teeth chatter. “Here,” he says. 

He grabs his blazer and tucks it around her shoulders, unexpectedly pleased when she pulls it tighter around herself, burying her nose into the lapel to breathe it in. “You always smell so good,” she breathes. “What is it?” 

“Sandalwood deodorant,” he murmurs. “I like the smell.” 

“So do I,” she whispers. 

Devi shuffles over and presses her side up against his, from thigh to shoulder, and she smells like jasmine, light and flowery and potent, all at the same time. “You smell really good too,” he murmurs. 

“Thank you.” Devi leans her head on his shoulder, her hair brushing against his cheek, impossibly soft. “You know,” she whispers, almost conspiratorially, “if this is going to become a regular thing, you’re going to have to let me steal all of your fries.” To punctuate her statement, she reaches over and plucks one out of the carton, tossing it into her mouth. 

“What? Why?” 

“Cause, Ben, according to you, you’re a gentleman, and a gentleman always lets a lady steal his fries.” 

“You’re not a lady, though.” 

She smacks him in the chest with her soda, and he can’t help but laugh. “You keep insulting me while we’re on a date. What’s going to make me want to come back?” 

Ben’s eyes drop to her mouth, for a split second, before moving back up into her eyes. “It’s your choice,” he whispers. “But I think we both know you’re having fun.” 

She blushes again, pink. “You’re so egotistical.” 

He steals one of her fries, dipping it in the ketchup. “Well, you’d tell me if you weren’t.” 

“I would.” 

He takes note of this moment right now, with her face flushed beautifully, her blazer wrapped around his shoulders, her head on his shoulder, with their legs tangled together, sitting on a cliff rock edge. With her, he always seems to end up overlooking a precipice. And now, they have all the time in the world. 

(her fingers trace his veins, up and down his forearm, from the skin of his wrist to the crook of his elbow, like the silk road of his skin, over and over again, mapping out spice routes and valleys and mountains in his skin. he wonders what is the treasure she is searching for, and if she will ever find it) 

It’s soothing, the press of her hand against his skin, and he can’t resist the urge to turn his head and drop a gentle kiss on the crown of her head. “So,” he whispers, “why did you say yes when I asked you out?” 

She sighs, pushing away the empty carton of fries and wrapping her arm around his like a teddy bear, both of her fingers dancing over his skin now. “At first, I didn’t really know,” she murmurs. “I kind of just really wanted to make out with you.” 

“Well, I  _ did _ know I was that good of a kisser,” he snorts. 

“Shut up, Ben, and let me finish.” Devi takes a deep breath in, breathes out. “I think,” she says, pausing, “that I said yes because I wanted to know the real you.” 

He furrows his brow. “What?” 

Devi tightens her grip on his arm, burrowing her nose into his collarbone, inhaling. He does the same with her, propping his chin on her head and relaxing. With her is the most peaceful he has ever been. “The Ben I saw in my kitchen after Model UN. The Ben that drove me to Malibu and gave me a home for a week. The one that has the best heart I’ve ever seen. I wanted to know that Ben. He’s special to me.” 

Ben swallows roughly. “Spe—special to you?” 

“You have always been special to me, Ben. First as my nemesis, then as my friend, and now as you.” 

“What, no label?” he jokes. 

She lifts her head up and looks at him. Her eyes look like swirls of dark chocolate, and they suck him in. Devi is all he can think about right now. The smell of her, the touch of her, the sight of her, the sound of her. He wants to kiss her, to finish off that last sense, but he waits, lets her finish speaking. 

“No,” she whispers. “No labels. Just Ben. Better than any label.” Devi reaches up and cups his jaw. “Always just Ben.” Her thumb scores over his cheek and he swears, he swears, he can hear her heartbeat pounding away in her ribcage, in tandem with his. 

He lets his eyes flutter shut. “That’s why you said yes?” 

“I wanted just Ben,” she murmurs. He can feel her forehead press against his. “Wanted to know more about just Ben.” 

He wants to sit here with her forever, to relish in this moment. “You think I have a good heart?” 

“The best heart I’ve ever seen. I can’t even imagine taking someone in without a second thought.” 

(he has never thought it was anything particularly special. devi needed him. ben has always only ever wanted to give people what they wanted, and he wants to do that for devi more than anyone else in the world. all he wants to do is give her everything she wants) 

“I really didn’t think it was that big of a deal. You needed me.” 

Her fingers trace down the side of his face, over and over again, and it’s soothing and lovely and everything he had hoped this moment would be, but never thought it  _ would _ be.

“I have always needed you, Ben. Even when you didn’t know it. Even when  _ I _ didn’t know it.” 

“You’ve never needed me, Devi. But you always have me.” 

(is he too young to be making promises like this to her, too young to be promising the whole of his heart to her, sitting on the roof of his car, overlooking their town, in the november air? is he too young to tell her? yes, but what better time to be bold and risky and reckless than when he is young? he does not have responsibilities to worry about, not quite yet, and for devi, he would promise the world, and find a way to give it to her)

She makes him feel like an eruption and a candle all at the same time. 

Devi shifts her head, tucking her nose into his neck, and Ben’s eyes flutter open, seeing the beautiful, beautiful stars that dot the sky. A myriad of overlapping constellations and myths. Whenever he looks into the sky, he remembers the past, of the thousands of ancient civilizations that looked up at the very same stars. “Hey,” he says, nudging her cheek with his nose. “Look at the sky.” 

She pulls away from him, glancing up at the sky. “They’re beautiful.” 

“What do you think it is about the stars that make people want to find constellations in them?” 

“What is it about the ocean that makes people come up with sea monsters and mermaids?” 

“Do you think all of life is just—searching for meaning in meaningless things?” he asks. 

With anyone else, he wouldn’t have dared to ask this question, wouldn’t have dared to say something that could get him laughed at. Devi makes him brave, though. With her, he can be himself, the Ben he has always wanted to be, not the Ben who everyone expects him to be. 

With Devi, Ben sees that the person who he has always wanted to be, the guy he has always wanted to be, is who he already was. In Devi’s eyes, he is  _ already _ enough, and he doesn’t have to be anything but himself for her to think that. 

“I think we keep searching for a meaning to understand things we’ll never really understand,” she murmurs. 

“What do you mean by that?” 

She tilts her head and her lips brush against his jaw, and he attributes the shiver that runs through him to the cold wind that brushes against their backs. 

“You don’t think we’re ever going to really discover everything about the sea and stars, are you?” 

“No,” he murmurs. “But I think we can try.” 

He pulls back and looks at her, trails his hand down her face, cupping her jaw. 

(he’s never going to know everything about her. devi is as boundless as the universe and as deep as the ocean, mysterious and beautiful and enigmatic. when he looks at her, he understands why the stars inspire constellations and the oceans inspire myths—because he wants to know her, in every way he can, he wants to understand her. she is so beautiful she makes him desperate to learn more, the same way the universe does. looking at her, ben can understand why every ancient civilization lives on through its stories about the sky and the sea, because everyone understands what it is like to want to know  _ more)  _

She raises her hand up and curls around his wrist. “Ben,” she whispers. “Take me out again. Please.” 

He can’t help the stupidly dopey smile that crosses his face. “Yeah. Yeah, I’d like that.” 

Devi grins back at him. “Thank god.” 

He wants to kiss her so bad, so bad it hurts, but he wants this date to be  _ perfect. _ And it has been. It has been the best date he has ever been on. One of the best nights in his life. 

Ben leans forward, touches his forehead to hers. “Wow,” he breathes. “You’re really pretty, you know that?” 

She drags her tongue over her lip. “Tell me again?” Her eyes are bright and hopeful, and Ben will tell her how beautiful she is for the rest of his life. 

“You are  _ so _ beautiful.” He tilts her chin up. “Everything about you. It’s beautiful.” 

“I am a perfect ten,” she whispers. 

He laughs, unable to stop touching her. “Maybe a nine point five.” 

Devi reaches up and strokes underneath his eyes, the top of his cheekbone. “Your eyes are my favorite color.” 

He blinks at her. “I thought purple was your favorite color.” 

She shakes her head. “Blue,” she whispers. “The exact shade of blue in your eyes.” 

(he has never had anyone look at him like this, with reverence and adoration and beauty, like the whole universe can be found in his gaze. and he never, never imagined it would be devi looking at him like this, but suddenly, he can’t imagine it ever being anyone else. he doesn’t want anyone else to ever look at him like this, he only wants her) 

He leans down to kiss her, because he can’t—can’t bear to not have another moment without his lips on hers, but then her phone starts ringing, and he sighs, directing his head to her collarbone, dropping his forehead on it, groaning. 

She laughs. “I hate your phone,” he groans. 

“It’s just my alarm alerting me that it’s 10:30,” she says, a smile in her voice. 

“So you’re the one who’s stopping me?” 

“Sorry, Ben,” she says, a smile in her voice. 

He sighs, disentangles himself from her, and slides off of the hood of his car. “Come on. We gotta get you home.” 

Devi hops off the car as well, tossing the empty containers in the back of his car, before tugging his blazer closer around herself and sliding into the passenger seat. “I wish I didn’t have to go home,” she sighs. 

He reaches for her hand, rubbing circles in the back of it with her thumb. “Same, but if you ever want your mom to let me take you out again, you have to go home.” 

She lifts their hands up and presses a kiss to the inside of his wrist. “I know. I still don’t want to go.” 

Devi squeezes his hand one last time before slipping her hand out of his, settling it back in her lap. “Ok.” 

He glances over at her as he starts the ignition, letting his eyes drag over her; the curls of her hair and the curve of her neck, the ski jump slope of her nose and the arch of her cheekbones. He wants her. 

(he  _ has _ her) 

Ben drives them home, silently, carefully, making sure to avoid highways and any roads he’s not super familiar with, and if that takes them a bit longer than necessary, oh well. He wants to drag every moment of this out, savor every second. 

Finally, though, they end up in front of her house, and he gently turns the ignition off. “We’re here, Devi.” 

She opens her eyes, smiling softly at him. “I know.” 

Ben hops out of the car and opens her door for her, and she climbs out of it, placing her hand on his arm to do so. “You had a nice night?” he asks. 

“Well,” she smirks, “I didn’t  _ love _ the liver, but I liked the McDonald’s.” 

He laughs. “I took you to a restaurant that had a Michelin star chef there, and you preferred fast-food.” 

“What can I say, Gross?” She turns to him as they stand under their porch light, and the yellow light on her makes her look softer than he has ever seen her, just short of an ethereal being. 

(he will never tell her this, but sometimes he thinks he was put on this world for nothing but to worship her, to fall at her feet and kiss her and devote the rest of his life to making her happy. he wants to do it more than anything else in the world)

“I just have better taste than most people. We’ve always known my opinions are superior.” 

“Even your opinions on me?” he murmurs. 

“I think so,” she whispers. 

He nods, shoving his hands into his pockets. “Good to know.” 

Ben rolls up onto the balls of his feet and then back down again, a bit nervous. He wants to kiss her, so badly, but he—he doesn’t want to assume. 

He clears his throat, and then leans forward, pressing his lips against her cheek. He can feel the gasp she lets out, before he draws back, his fingers nervously tapping inside of his pockets. 

Devi blinks at him in shock. “What—what was that?” 

Ben bites at his lip, rolling it between his teeth. “I—I didn’t want to assume anything.” 

She arches her eyebrow teasingly. “We’ve spent the past three weeks making out in closets, and now we went on an actual date, and you still didn’t want to assume anything?” 

He nods, jerkily. “Well—well yeah. I just—wanted to give you the space you needed.” 

Devi rolls her eyes, albeit a bit fondly. “Ben, for someone trying to be a gentleman, you’re a fucking idiot.” And then, she steps forward, curls her hand around his tie, and pulls him in. 

Kissing Devi is second nature, now, a deep, lasting instinct coded into his DNA, so the second her lips touch his he knows what to do. He pulls his hands out of his pockets, wrapping his arms around her waist and tugging her in, slanting his mouth over hers. 

Her mouth is slick from the lipgloss, the same color as her dress, he remembers, but right now the only thing going through his mind is that she tastes like the Cherry Coke she’d been drinking, overly sweet, with a bite. He trails his tongue along the line of her lips, and her mouth opens for him, dark and wholly addicting, intoxicating, more than any beer he’s ever drunk, more than any alcohol in the world. He could get drunk on her alone. 

Devi’s hands reach up and run through his hair, fisting in it, gripping him tightly and pulling him closer to her, to kiss him harder, and he slides one of his hands up to press between her shoulder blades and curve her back. 

He deepens the kiss, and she shivers in his arms, trembles when he kisses her harder, and he wants to make her tremble in his arms and cling to him, to wrap herself around him as much as he is wrapped up in her. 

She sighs into his mouth, and it only makes him want to kiss her for longer, to press her up against her door and kiss her for the rest of his life. He tugs on her lower lip with his teeth, and she lets a moan slip. 

“Ben,” she whispers, underneath his kiss, and it’s the best sound he’s ever heard. 

It spurs him into sensory intake, and he tries to take everything in he can; the smell of jasmine surrounding them, the grip of her hands in his hair, the taste of cherries and the sound of her sighs. Her skin is hot underneath his touch and she’s pressed up against him, and she lights him on fire, inside out. 

He can’t bear to pull away, he can’t, but his lungs are burning and he needs to breathe, if only so that he might be able to kiss her more, kiss her again and again, so he pulls back, sucking air into his lungs. He needs to be still tangled up in her, her gravity, and so he breathes out, breath fanning over her lips, pressing his forehead against hers. 

He keeps his eyes closed for a few moments, and she keeps dragging her fingers across his scalp, gently, over and over again. His hand drags up and down her spine, slowly, and he needs to breathe her in to be able to open his eyes, so he does, until he finally feels like he can look at her. 

His eyes flicker open to find hers staring right into his, and he just barely manages to shove down the urge to kiss her again when he sees her face.

Devi’s body is arched underneath him, and her eyes flicker over his face, wide and dazed and suffused with heat, with promise. They’re bright and rove over every inch of his face, as if she can’t quite believe she’s here. 

(honestly, he can’t either, can’t believe he’s holding devi vishwakumar in his arms after one of the best kisses in his life, that she’s looking at him with swollen lips and desire in her gaze, that she’s looking at him like he’s the only thing she ever wants) 

Ben’s gaze falls to her mouth, that beautiful, beautiful mouth of hers, and her lipstick is smudged, streaks of red around her lips, and he reaches up, scoring his thumb across the bottom of her lip to wipe it off. 

“Sorry,” he says, voice coming out raspy and low. “I fucked up your makeup.” 

“Yeah,” she repeats, her voice coming out much of the same, quiet and kiss-rough and husky, and it sends heat zipping down his spine, makes his stomach catch on fire. “Uh, I think you’re wearing it.” 

She pulls her hand from his hair and swipes it across his mouth the same, her thumb coming off slightly red. “Red’s not your color.” 

“I don’t care, Devi,” he breathes. “It’s yours.” 

Devi’s hand in his hair tightens when he drops his head down again, pressing a kiss to the corner of the corner of her mouth, and them more, all around her mouth. “I like it on you,” he murmurs. 

“You’re being weirdly nice to me, Ben,” she whimpers. “And now you’re smearing my lipstick.” 

“Hmm,” he hums, before kissing her again. 

She clutches him tighter and lets his tongue sweep into her mouth again, and he can’t bear to move away from her, can’t let her go. 

When he finally does manage to pull away, again, he remembers something. 

“Wait,” he says, digging in his pocket. He pulls out his phone, turning it on. 

He’s still got an arm wrapped around her waist, and she glances down at his phone in confusion. “What are you doing?” 

He holds it up, switching it to selfie mode. “I want to take a picture.” 

She furrows her brow at him, looping her arms around his neck. “What? Why?” 

“A picture’s worth a thousand words, isn’t it?” he says, shrugging. “And plus, don’t you want to remember our first date?” 

Devi groans, rolling her eyes. “Ben, you’re such a sap.” 

“Is that a yes, or…?” 

She shakes her head, a smile playing at her lips. “I would say yes, but look at us. You’ve got lipstick all over you and mine is smudged. Do you really want to take a photo of us like this?” 

“I mean, I always look fantastic, so I can make up for the both of us, David.” He smirks, enjoying the way she rolls her eyes. 

“There he is,” she sighs, “the real Ben Gross, back at it again.” 

“And you’re going on another date with him,” he whispers. 

“Reminds me again why?” she quips back. 

Instead of giving her a verbal response, Ben just tugs her back into him and kisses her again, firmly and sound. She laughs against his mouth, kissing him back. “You’re dumb,” she says, against his lips. 

“Yeah, yeah,” Ben says. He dumbly taps away at his phone, stumbling back on his feet when Devi presses herself into him harder, kissing him firmly.

“You know I’m right,” she laughs, and he laughs right back, and now they’re not even kissing, just pressing smiles against one another, and his mind is spinning with her, her, her, completely wrapped up in everything she is. 

When he finally pulls away, he tucks his phone into his jacket pocket, before sliding his hand down her arm to link with hers.

“I really did have a great time tonight,” she says. 

“I did too.” 

She gnaws at her lip. “So we’re gonna make this a regular thing?” 

He nods. “We are.” 

Devi smiles, soft and a little shy. “I’m glad.” 

Because he can, now, he leans in and kisses her again, and doesn’t stop for quite some time. 


	2. date twenty-seven (four months and thirteen days)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _“Aww, Ben,” she says. She reaches over and pats his cheek. “I’m sorry,” she apologizes, cloyingly sweet. “You’re a very handsome boy.”_
> 
> _He just slumps in his seat, focusing on the screen. “Shockingly, that didn’t make me feel better.”_
> 
> _Devi rolls her eyes. “Get over it.”_
> 
> _He glances over at her, frowning. “I’ll never get over this. You’ve wounded me, mortally, irreversibly.”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey guys! i'm really excited to get this next chapter out for y'all, so i hope you enjoy it! there's not much to say, other than there's plenty of tooth-rotting fluff and you'll need to brush your teeth after you read this. i hope you all have just as much fun reading it as i had writing it!
> 
> thank you, enjoy!

Ben greets her by pressing his lips against her cheek when she walks into school. 

“Hey,” he says. 

She narrows her eyes at him. “What did we say about PDA?” 

He rolls his eyes. “David, we’ve been dating for four months, now. Me kissing your cheek is PDA?” 

She scowls at him. “Public displays of affection, Gross. Keep that shit on lock.” 

Ben smirks, leaning against the locker doors. “You know, one might think you’re ashamed of me, considering how little you let me do anything at school.” 

Devi scoffs, unlocking her locker door and swinging it open, smirking when it nearly catches Ben in the face. 

“Fuck, Devi,” he grumbles, jerking his face away. “Are you trying to break my nose?” 

“Who knows, Gross? Get some plastic surgery and your face might be a bit easier to look at.” 

“If I get plastic surgery,” he points out, “you can’t kiss me for a significant period of time.” 

Devi gnaws at her lip, slowly, pulling her textbooks out of the locker before she turns to face him. “Fine,” she relents. “Sorry. Don’t get plastic surgery.” 

“Good,” he laughs, before leaning in and pressing a kiss to her lips.

Despite her rules regarding PDA, Ben’s kisses always make her feel like she’s lost all sense of time, take her to another place of contentment and bliss, and so she forgets a bit, the rules she just told him, and kisses him back, soft and sweet. 

(devi loves when his kisses take her breath away, but sometimes, she loves it even more when his kisses give her air, when they make her feel a bit warm and like an ember has been lit in her stomach, bright and hot, but not overpowering) 

“Ugh,” she hears, and pulls back from him to find Eleanor rolling her eyes at them. 

It’s performative, mostly because Devi knows that no one else is more excited about her and Ben dating than Eleanor, but her best friend is such a drama queen it’s just hilarious. 

“Can you guys spend twenty seconds not sucking face, please?” Eleanor asks, a pout curling over her lips. “It’s disgusting.” 

Devi steps away from her boyfriend and rolls her eyes at her best friend. “We don’t suck face all the time, El.” 

“That’s true, Eleanor,” Fabiola comments, appearing at Eleanor’s side. “At least, not in school. All bets are off when we get off of campus.” 

“Betrayed,” Devi scowls at Fabiola. “Et tu, Fab?” 

“I’m just pointing out the facts. Devi,” Fabiola shrugs. “You can’t blame me for that.” 

“You and Eve are literally just as bad as us!” she shrieks. 

“We’re lesbians. You’re dating a  _ guy,” _ Fabiola shoots back. 

Devi’s mouth drops open, offended, but to her surprise, Ben just laughs. “Ok, that’s fair.” 

“How are you not insulted?” she asks, turning to him. 

“Because guys suck,” he answers simply. “Even if I’m a guy I’m pretty self-aware of that.” 

Devi purses her lips to bite back a smile. “Ok, fair enough,” she laughs. Ben slides his hand down her arm and tangles her fingers with his. “You’re ok, I guess.” 

“Thank you for the glowing recommendation,” he laughs. 

Eleanor gags. “Dear god, you two are ridiculous.” 

“We’re not even doing anything!” she protests. 

“Yeah. but your aggressive cuteness in the face of my aggressive singleness is irritating. I’m considering sending in a proposal to the UN to classify it as a war crime.” 

“Acting like a couple in front of single people?” she asks, mystified. She and Ben exchange an amused look. 

“Ah, ah, ah,” Eleanor says, wagging her finger. “Don’t pull that bullshit with me, ok?” 

“What bullshit?” 

“The fucking—married couple mind reading bullshit,” Eleanor gripes, fingers tightening around her textbooks. “I hate it.” 

Fabiola snorts. “Please. They’ve been doing that since grade school, El.” 

“Uh, what the hell are you talking about?” Ben juts in. “We’ve only been dating for the past four months.” 

Eleanor scoffs, stepping over to the history classroom, her skirt swishing around her legs. “Yeah, but let’s be real, you two have been more married than half of the couples at this school since like, fourth grade.” 

“Uh, can we please have some evidence to support this rather large claim?” Devi asks, following her friends into the classroom and sitting down. 

“Sure,” Eleanor chirps. She holds up her hand, counting off on her fingers. “Ben, what’s Devi’s favorite movie?” 

_ “10 Things I Hate About You, _ but she likes to pretend it’s  _ The Martian,” _ he answers instantly. 

“Devi, what food does Ben hate?” 

“Tomatoes,” she says, furrowing her brows. 

“Ben, what does Devi need to do later this week?” 

“Practice her harp and finish her chemistry project.” he says. 

“See,” Fabiola says, leaning back in her chair and crossing her arms. “Married.” 

Ben shoots Devi a confused look, and she doesn’t want to say her friends are correct, but the fact that she can tell  _ exactly _ what he’s thinking right now kind of proves their point. She shrugs back at him, but she doesn’t say much. 

“Hey, Devi.” Paxton appears at her side, looking, oddly, a bit nervous. 

Eleanor scowls at him. “Get lost, H-Y.” 

Paxton’s eyebrows raise into his curly mop of hair, and he looks a bit stunned. “Um, I—” 

“Do I need to say it again?” Eleanor scowls, crossing her arms. “You can leave now.” 

“Let the man talk, Eleanor,” Devi laughs, shooting a fond look at her friend. 

She rolls her eyes at Ben, who’s also struggling to bite back a smile at Eleanor’s dramatics. 

“What’s up, Paxton?” 

“Um, Rebecca wanted to know if you were free to hang out after school on Thursday.” 

“Um, I think so,” she says, pulling her phone out. “Let me check, and I’ll get back to you?” 

Paxton nods. “Sounds good.” 

“Ok, you can leave now,” Eleanor scoffs, flipping open the pages of her binder. 

Devi watches with amusement as Paxton stares at Eleanor, blinking in shock, seemingly frozen, as she doesn’t even spare him another glance, coolly filling in her homework at the last minute, as Eleanor is wont to do.

“Uh, bye, Devi,” he says, but he’s still staring at Eleanor before he turns and walks away. 

“Don’t know how you’re friends with him,” Eleanor mutters, as soon as Paxton is out of earshot.

“He’s not actually a bad guy, Eleanor,” Ben says. 

“You’re her boyfriend, Ben,” Eleanor says. “Shouldn’t you hate that he’s hanging out with her?” 

“Well, no, because I’m not a dick,” he says, “and secondly, Devi can be friends with whoever the fuck she likes. I trust her.” 

Devi laces her fingers with his and pulls their hands up to her lips, pressing her lips against his knuckles. “Plus, he knows I’d kick his ass if he tried to control where I went.” 

“That too,” he laughs. “You would hate it.” 

She smiles at him. “You’re stupid,” she smirks. 

He reaches out and flicks her nose, smiling stupidly at her. “You’re mean,” he banters back, eyes shining with fondness. 

(her stomach flips over whenever he looks at her like that, and it’s so sweet and so kind and so loving, and no one else looks at her like this but ben, but that’s ok, because the only person she ever wants looking at her is ben, with that shining fondness in his eyes, that care) 

“You’re ridiculous.” 

“You’re beautiful.” 

She blushes a deep red. “Shut up,” she mutters, stupidly endeared by him. He’s such a sucker, able to make her feel like the prettiest girl in the world. 

“Do you  _ want _ me to insult you?” he asks. “I certainly can do that,” he smirks. “You’ve got a temper and you always steal my french fries and you—” 

“Ok, ok,” she laughs. “Fine, what are all my good qualities?” she smirks, batting her lashes. 

“No, nope, no thank  _ you,” _ Fabiola says, pointing her pen at them. “I don’t need to throw up in school. Save that shit for your own time.” 

Ben rolls his eyes, but turns to Devi. “Are we still on for the movies tonight?” 

She nods, slipping her hand from his, pulling out her history homework. “Yeah, as long as you don’t choose something stupid.” 

“I think it’s your turn to choose the movie, actually,” he says. “What are we going to see?” 

She chews her lip carefully. “I dunno. That new gladiator movie?” 

“Great,” he says wryly. “Can’t wait for you to point out everything about how historically inaccurate it is.” 

She laughs. “Don’t act like you don’t love it.” 

He smirks. “Occasionally.” 

“Hey, what did we say about the flirting?” Eleanor says, jabbing her pencil at them. “Quit it.” 

“How was that flirting, Eleanor?” Devi asks, appalled.

“Yeah, are we just not supposed to talk to each other and literally never touch each other?” Ben drawls, rolling his eyes. 

Eleanor grins, nodding. “Yeah, actually, sounds like a plan.” She winks, though, so Devi knows she’s just joking, and she bites back a smirk at her friend’s antics. 

Shapiro walks in, and starts the class, and so Devi turns away from her friends, focusing on her schoolwork. She might be dating Ben, but she’s never going to go easy on him. 

(she had wondered if dating ben would take the edge of their competition away, if it would make things weird between them, but the thing about dating ben was that—that not  _ everything _ changed. he’s still ben, the guy who pushes her to work better and harder than anyone else, he’s still ben, the guy who challenges her like no one else, but now she can shut him up by kissing him instead of screaming at him. she finds comfort in the fact that only  _ some _ things changed when started dating, not everything) 

It’s good. They’re still them. 

* * *

The rest of the day passes as usual, and when it’s finished, Devi makes her way to her locker, putting away her textbooks and making sure she has everything she needs to finish her homework tonight. “Hey,” Ben says. “Want me to carry your books?” he offers. 

Devi smiles at him. “Nah, I’m good, Gross.” She slings her backpack over her shoulder and takes his hand. “I appreciate the offer, though,” she grins. “Even if it’s a bit Neanderthal like.” 

“We’re not even descended from Neanderthals,” he complains, holding open the door for her. 

“You say that every time I use that insult, and I’m beginning to think you don’t know how to respond in any other way to it.” 

“I mean, to be honest, I think you just need to switch up your insults,” he laughs, hands swinging between them as they make their way to his car. 

“Are you saying you’re getting tired of me, Gross?” she laughs, using her other hand to flip her hair over her shoulder as they stop. 

He laughs, tugs her in, pressing her flush against him. “Not yet.” His eyes sparkle, bright, bright blue, and she can’t help but smile back, tilting her head up and brushing her lips against his. 

Ben smiles against her lips as she reaches her other hand up, cupping his jaw and kissing him harder. She hates PDA, but no one else is around and she  _ really _ likes kissing her boyfriend, sue her. 

She’s lost count of how many times she’s kissed Ben in the last four months, how many times he’s kissed her, on the lips, let alone on the cheek and how many kisses he’s pressed to her knuckles, to how many he’s dropped on her forehead and neck and face. She loves it, even if she occasionally pretends not to. 

He pulls away first, and Devi grumbles, but she can’t help but smile when his lips press against her hair. “Come on, David,” he laughs. “Don’t you want to go on this date?”

“Can’t we just make out?” she hums, stroking her fingers down his cheek. 

Ben raises his eyebrows, a frustratingly attractive smirk playing on his face. Seriously, why is her boyfriend such an asshole? 

(more than that, why does she  _ like _ it?) 

“It’s really nice to know you find me that attractive,” he laughs. 

“Ok, I take it back,” she groans. “Take me out.” 

Ben leans in and presses a kiss to her cheek, opening the passenger side car door for her. “Come on, I promise it’ll be fun.” 

That, she knows, is true. Her dates with Ben are always so much fun. Maybe it’s because she gets to spend all the time she wants with him, maybe it’s because of his hand in hers, but Devi really likes spending time with him. 

“Fine,” she sighs, dramatically. “Plus, I really wanna tear  _ Colosseum _ apart.” 

He slides into the driver’s seat, tossing his backpack in the back of his car, snorting. “You know, Hollywood  _ is _ allowed to take liberties with what they produce. If you want to watch something historically accurate, you could just watch a documentary on the ancient Romans.” 

“Ok, there’s artistic license, and there’s just ridiculousness. It’s perpetuating myths about gladiators and ancient Rome that’s inaccurate.” 

“I seriously think you’re the only one who cares, David.” 

She flips him off as he starts the car, pulling out of the school’s parking lot. “Says the guy who wouldn’t shut up when we watched  _ Reign.”  _

“Ok, that show takes historical inaccuracy to another level!” he complains. “They’re really acting like, like everyone wouldn’t be dying of syphilis or something.” 

“Don’t think that makes for a very romantic setting, Gross.” 

He frowns. “Look, I’m just saying there’s only a limit that I can take.” 

She laughs, leaning over and punching him lightly in the arm. “Maybe we should just go home and watch  _ The Good Place _ if we both know how this is going to end.” 

He glances over at her, raising an eyebrow. “You really want a repeat of what happened the last time we tried to do that?” 

Devi thinks back on the two hour long (near) screaming match they had on deontology and determinism and shudders. “Uh, maybe not,” she says. “That ended up with me chucking a popcorn bowl at your head.” 

He rubs the back of his head. “Worst part was, your aim was on point.” 

“Aww, I’m sorry, Ben,” she simpers. “I can’t help it if I thought you just had a thick skull. Who could blame me for thinking that?” 

He rolls his eyes so hard Devi’s surprised they don’t get stuck there. “If anyone didn’t know we were dating, they would think you hated me.” 

“Good,” she smirks. “Can’t have anyone thinking I like you.” 

“Don’t you like me? At least a little? You are dating me.” 

Devi taps her finger against her chin dramatically. “Maybe just a tad,” she relents. 

He smiles at her. “I think I like you a tad too.” 

She flushes, reaching over and patting his hand. “Don’t try and romance me now, you flirt.” 

Ben winks at her. “I’m always trying to romance you.” 

He pulls into the mall parking lot and hops out of the car, and she steps out, tucking herself into his side as he shuts her door. “Your success rate is marginal, at best.” 

“Hmm,” he hums, stuffing his hands into his pockets. “I think I’ve got a stellar success rate. I’m batting a thousand so far.” 

“You’ve struck out more than once.” 

“I—” he stops, suddenly, biting his lip. “I don’t watch enough sports to have a comeback to that,” he confesses, and she laughs. 

“I don’t watch enough baseball, so I get that.” 

Ben pulls out his wallet and gets them two tickets for  _ Colosseum,  _ as usual. He always pays for the tickets, she always pays for snacks. At the beginning of their relationship, she was happy to make him pay for everything, but now that they’ve been together for four months, she wants to make things a bit more equal. 

Devi, of course, makes sure to get two bags of Sour Patch Kids, since she and Ben both love them, and hands him his soda when he appears at the counter. 

“So,” he says, sipping his drink as they walk into the theater and settle in their seats, “what are we picking apart first?” 

She tears open her bag of Sour Patch Kids, scowling at him when he reaches over and steals some of hers, despite having a whole bag of his own. She slaps his hand. “Stop,” she whines. “You have your own.” 

Ben grumbles at her. “Come on, David,” he says, his eyes wide and pleading. 

(fuck it’s not fair when he looks at her like that, with those blue, blue eyes. it gets harder and harder to say no to him, every time he does it, and she can’t let him know, because then he’s just going to use those stupidly beautiful eyes on her all the time) 

“You. Have. Your. Own,” she grits out, through clenched teeth, already feeling her resolve crumbling. 

He sticks his tongue out at her and turns back at the screen, as the previews finish rolling. The movie starts out, and instantly, Devi wrinkles her nose, annoyed. 

Ben laughs, quietly, glancing over at her. “So, start. What’s wrong?” 

“Well, first of all,” she whispers, “they didn’t speak Italian. They spoke Latin,  _ obviously.” _

“Hmm,” he hums, eyes glittering at her as he pops some popcorn in his mouth. “Fascinating,” he whispers. 

“You asked for it, Gross.” 

He sips his soda, grinning. “Well, what else?” Ben’s eyes dance in the darkness, challenging her, and she smirks. 

“Ok, well, first of all, gladiators were not trim like that at all. They usually had a bit of fat around their stomach, like a pouch, in order to protect themselves.” She eyes him critically. “Like you.” 

Ben gapes at her, offended. “Are you saying I have a stomach pouch?” 

She snorts. “Yup.” 

“I literally—brought you on this date, paid for your tickets—” 

“I paid for the snacks, what’s your point?” she cuts in, snorting. 

“—and you have the audacity to insult my appearance? I can’t believe you,” he grumbles, turning back to his popcorn. 

“Aww, Ben,” she says. She reaches over and pats his cheek. “I’m sorry,” she apologizes, cloyingly sweet. “You’re a very handsome boy.” 

He just slumps in his seat, focusing on the screen. “Shockingly, that didn’t make me feel better.” 

Devi rolls her eyes. “Get over it.” 

He glances over at her, frowning. “I’ll never get over this. You’ve wounded me, mortally, irreversibly.” 

She rolls her eyes again. “And you say Eleanor is the dramatic one,” she mutters to herself. Sitting up a bit more fully, she leans over to Ben. “I’m sorry, Ben. You’re very attractive.” 

“With abs of steel?” he says, cheekily. 

Devi grumbles, but acquiesces to his statement. “With abs of steel.” 

Ben grins, leaning over and pressing his lips to hers, kissing the breath from her lungs. He pulls away not a moment later, giving her whiplash from the sensation of his lips on hers. “Damn right.” 

“Don’t make out with me while I’m watching a movie,” she says. “No PDA. It’s an interesting movie.” 

He snorts, reaching over and stealing  _ another _ Sour Patch Kid gummy. “Right, that’s why you were lecturing me on the historical inaccuracies.” 

She jabs her finger at the screen, hissing, “well, they’re so blatant they’re  _ begging _ to be exposed. Like, seriously! Commodus didn’t kill his dad, his dad died of the plague while fighting Germanic tribes!” 

“Yeah, but that’s called, again, artistic license. They have to make the plotline more interesting somehow.” 

“This isn’t making the plotline more interesting!” she whisper-shouts. “This is a total bastardization of all of Roman history! Marcus Aurelius had absolutely no interest in restoring Rome back to the “old republic”! He wanted to fucking  _ expand _ the empire.” 

“I think you’ve watched too many documentaries on Netflix, Devi,” Ben drawls, tossing popcorn in his mouth. 

She crosses her arms. “Come on, Ben, you agree with me, don’t you?” 

He tilts his head. “Yeah, with some of it,” he relents, “but don’t you think that Hollywood is allowed to have a little leeway?” 

She snorts. “I don’t want them to glorify a horrible man who forced slaves to murder each other and to make a mockery of what ancient Rome was: a horrible, bloody place.” 

“Then why are you so fascinated with it?” 

“Because there’s something we can learn from it!” she says, throwing her hands up in the air. 

“But then how come documentaries don’t do the same thing? Glorify Rome, at least.” 

Devi grumbles, shoving her hand into the popcorn. “Because documentaries don’t glorify Rome  _ and _ give inaccurate information about what it was like. This is what contributes to people being like, I wish I was a gladiator.” 

“I wanted to be one when I was younger,” he says wistfully, wincing at someone getting their head chopped off onscreen. Devi, having been used to it, dealing in mostly violent documentaries when she settles down to watch some Netflix, simply coolly sips her soda.

“Of course you did,” she laughs, a tad rueful. “Let me guess, you liked Julius Caesar.” 

“Everyone likes Caesar. Except, obviously the people who murdered him,” he banters back. 

“Caesar isn’t even that interesting!” she protests. “What about like—Cleopatra? Agrippina? Octavia? Marcia? All women who were way more interesting than Caesar.” 

“Just because those women were inevitably interesting doesn’t mean Caesar  _ wasn’t,” _ he protests. “I mean, we’re talking about the guy who conquered Gaul!” 

“And killed hundreds of people while doing it.” 

He snorts. “Ok, then, how morally and ethically good were your women?” 

“Not at all,” she says, “but their stories deserve to be told.” 

“Fair enough.” He settles himself back at the screen. “All I’m saying is, I wanted to be a gladiator when I was younger. Of course, that was before I knew what I knew now, but.” 

She snorts. “You could have been anything you wanted. You’re a white guy. I’m a woman of color, so like, I’m fucked.” 

“Well, actually, race wasn’t a thing with the Romans,” he points out. “It was a lot more dependent on how much money you had. Plus, I’m Jewish, so like, I’m fucked too.” 

“Yeah, but I’m a woman.” 

“Ok, but they frequently enslaved Jewish people.” 

“Yeah, and they frequently enslaved women as well.” 

“I think I’d have it worse than you,” he shoots back. 

“Definitely not.” 

“For sure!” 

“Um, no!” 

“Excuse me.” 

Ben and Devi break off in the middle of their argument to find an usher, shining a flashlight into their eyes, looking impossibly annoyed. “Uh, hi?” Devi says, weakly. 

“I’m afraid I’m going to have to ask you two to leave,” the usher says, voice clipped and cold, impersonal. “You’re disturbing the movie for everyone else.” 

Devi feels her face flush bright red. “Oh my god, Ben, I’m going to kill you,” she hisses. 

He doesn’t respond, just gathering their things. “We’re so, so sorry,” he says, before pausing. “Well, she is.” 

“I am?” she nearly shrieks, then winces, catching the look on the usher’s face. She tosses her bag of Sour Patch Kids into the popcorn and stands up. “Sorry, sorry,” she hisses. 

She wraps her hand around Ben’s wrist and jerks him up, dragging him out of the theater. 

“I can’t  _ believe _ you,” she mutters, as soon as they’re outside. 

“Um, from what I remember, you were the one who started the argument,” he laughs. 

Devi spins around and crosses her arms. “Me? I can’t help it, Gross! You just have a face that enrages me.” 

“Again, we are  _ dating,” _ he deadpans. “I don’t think my face should enrage you.” 

“Fine,” she grumbles. “Then your opinions are so dumb, they enrage me.” 

“My opinions on Julius Caesar are so dumb they enrage you enough to get us kicked out of the movie theater?” 

She shoves him, but he just catches her hand and tugs her in, laughing, smiling that stupid fucking smile of his that makes her insides melt. 

(his smile is one of the most beautiful things about him, still up there at the very top of the list, even after all these months. she’s discovered so much about ben that she finds beautiful, even the parts of him that she doesn’t think he finds beautiful, but his smile will forever be one of her favorite things in the world. sometimes it’s wide and bright and unrestrained, and sometimes he gives her the quirk of the mouth that’s just reserved for her and it makes her heart flutter in her chest. whichever smile he gives her, she treasures of all of them like a dragon does its golden horde—ferociously, with her whole heart)

“Yes,” she gripes, trying not to let his smile affect her too much. “They are.” 

“Why are you so pissed, Devi?” he chuckles, tilting his head to the side. “We’ve gotten kicked out of that theater like, three times, already.” 

“Because before it was just happenstance,” she groans, dropping her head on his shoulder, feeling his shoulders shake with silent laughter. “Now it’s a fucking pattern.” 

“Maybe we should watch movies at my place instead. That way you can be as needlessly violent with popcorn projectiles towards me as you want.”

She lifts her head off of his shoulder and smiles at him. “I can correct the movies?” 

He snorts. “Would it be fun if you didn’t?” 

She rolls her eyes playfully, grinning. “That’s true.” 

Ben leans in and kisses her then, one arm banding across her back and pulling her flush against him, the other tangling with her own to rest above his heart. 

She kisses him back, relishing in how he tastes salty and sweet from the soda and popcorn, the soft fabric of his shirt underneath her hand. Her heart pounds faster in her chest, as like it always does around him, and she can’t help but melt into him, sigh into his mouth when his fingers flex at her abdomen, pulling her closer to him. 

“Ok,” she murmurs, breaking away. “Fine, we’ll watch movies at your house.” 

He grins, pressing another kiss to her cheek. “Cool. Does that mean I get to choose the movie for next week?”

Devi shakes her head, ridiculously, unfairly charmed. “Yeah, ok, fine.” 

“Awesome. So,” he says, stepping back from her and letting her hand fall from his chest, “do you want me to take you home now?” 

Devi glances at her watch. “It’s only 3:45,” she says, wrinkling her nose. “I don’t have to be home until 5:30. We have almost 2 hours.” 

“So you don’t want me to take you home?” 

She shakes her head. “Come on, Gross. Let’s do something fun.” 

“Like what?” he asks, baffled, as she drags him away from the theater, ambling throughout the mall. 

“Window shopping?” 

“Normally I just buy whatever I want,” he answers, and she smacks him in the chest. 

“Most of us can’t afford to just buy whatever the fuck we want, Gross,” she snorts. “Some of us just have to look.” 

“You can spend whatever you want. It’s on me,” he offers. 

Devi shakes her head. “Nice job, Gross, but I don’t accept charity.” 

Ben blushes bright red, ducking his head a bit shyly. “No, not—not charity. I just thought it would be nice if I could get something for you.” 

Her heart flutters, warmth spilling into her lungs, making it hard to breathe, but in a good way. “You don’t need to spoil me, you nerd.” 

“Yeah, I know. I want to.” 

(something about ben turns her into  _ such _ a fucking sap. she can’t help it! it makes something in her heart trip over itself and want to pass out, touched by his affection for her, and she’s never been like this with anyone before. she would hate it if it was anyone else, but because it’s ben, she can’t quite find it in herself to care) 

“You’re such a dork,” she mutters, warm touching her cheeks. 

“For wanting to spoil my girlfriend?” he laughs. 

“Yes,” she says, stubbornly sticking to her edict. 

Ben rolls his eyes fondly. “Ok then,” he mutters, shaking his head. “So, where are we off to first?” 

She glances around them. “Well, I do want to go to this really cute thrift store I visited when I was here with El and Fab.” 

Ben spreads his hands out. “Lead the way, David.” 

She tugs lightly on his hand, and he follows, bumping his shoulder with hers. “You know, we’re going to have to be careful. At this rate, we’re going to get kicked out of pretty much every single building in this mall,” he quips. 

“You could just not have such idiotic opinions,” she offers, letting him open the door to the thrift store. “I wouldn’t be so incensed then.” 

Ben snorts. “Right, but then who would challenge you? Face it, David, if we didn’t argue, you would get bored.” 

Devi scowls at him, hating that he’s right. 

“Whatever, Gross,” she says, dropping his hand. “Come on, I’m going to try a bunch of clothes on, and you tell me whether or not I should buy them.” 

Ben leans against the couch in the dressing room area. “You really want my opinion? Aren’t you always telling me that I have horrible fashion sense?” 

She snorts, dragging her eyes up and down his body critically. “Yes, you do,” she smirks, ignoring the offended cry of protest he lets out, “but you’re the only one here. I want you to tell me if I look good. I can decide the rest for myself.” 

He snorts. “So you just want me to Simon Cowell you?” 

“Please. If you’re anywhere  _ near _ as mean to me as Simon Cowell is to his clients, I’ll murder you. No, I want you to Heidi Klum me.” 

“Tim Gunn was the real star of that show.” 

“Fine, then I want you to Tim Gunn me.” 

He smirks. “Sounds like fun.” 

“Come on, you idiot,” she sighs, heavily. “You have to carry the clothes I pick out.” 

Ben groans, trailing after her. “Really?” 

“Don’t complain. You knew what you were getting into when you asked me out.” 

He smiles at her, soft and warm, pressing another kiss to her forehead. “I did.” 

“Fucking sap,” Devi mutters, but shoots him a smile of her own. 

Ben follows her faithfully, complaining the whole time as she pulls dresses and blouses off the racks, tossing them into his arms. 

“How many clothes can you possibly try on in 90 minutes?” he groans, watching as the clothes in his arms pile up higher and higher by the minute. 

Devi scowls at him. “Don’t criticize my shopping habits, Gross.” 

“I’m just saying, David, I don’t think it’s feasible to try on this many clothes before we have to leave.” Ben shifts the weight in his arms, craning his neck to try and see her over the pile he’s holding. “I really don’t want your mom to kill me because I got you home too late.” 

“She won’t kill you,” she comments, easily pulling out a few strappy heels she thinks she wants to try out. “That would be too easy. Maim you, perhaps, but not kill you. If she killed you she couldn’t do it again.” 

“Oh, great. That makes me feel so much better. I appreciate your concern for my well-being.” 

She winks at him. “Hey, I informed you of her intentions ahead of time. That’s being concerned for your well-being.” 

“So if your mother tried to murder me, you wouldn’t defend me?” 

Devi snorts. “Fuck no. Are you kidding me? I’m not throwing myself on the proverbial sword for you.” 

“I wouldn’t put it past your mom to have a real sword.” 

She tosses her head back and laughs at that, cause, well, he’s fucking right. “Ok,” she wheezes, as she makes her way to the dressing rooms, grabbing the clothes out of his arms. “Fair enough.” 

She ducks into the dressing room and tugs off her shirt, slipping on the first blouse she finds. “You’re so sweet to me, David,” he calls. 

“Get used to it, Gross,” she calls back, buttoning up the shirt. 

She steps out of the room, spreading her arms out. “Yes?” 

Ben glances up from his phone. “Yeah, you look great.” 

She frowns, crossing her arms. “That’s not an answer.” 

His forehead furrows. “What do you want me to say?” 

“Ugh, Ben!” She plants her hands on her hips and glares at him. “Oh my god, you’re useless.” She spins around on her hip and stalks back into the dressing room. 

“Um,” he says. “What did I do wrong?” 

Devi changes out of the blouse and tugs on a skirt, grabbing a cute tank top to go over it. She steps out of the dressing room, smoothing down the top. “This?” 

Ben smirks. “You look hot.”

“Ok, are you going to say anything actually  _ useful, _ Gross?” she asks, crossing her arms. 

Ben’s eyes linger on her legs, and she sighs. Men. 

“Hey, Ben!” she says, stepping closer to him and snapping her fingers in front of his face. “Did I break you?” 

“Nah,” he says. “You’re just really hot.” He drags his gaze up her body, and she feels hot all over, flush with heat. She’s well aware that she and Ben are physically attracted to one another, but god, the way he’s looking at her right now makes her feel like she’s about to light on fire. 

(she’s gunpowder, and ben’s the one holding a match) 

Devi ignores the rising blush climbing up her neck and flips him off. “You’re such a typical guy, Ben.” 

“My girlfriend’s hot and I want her to know it,” he smirks. “Tell me you’re getting that.” 

Devi steps closer to him, cocking her hip, and crossing her arms. “Do you want me to?” 

Ben cocks his head, eyes trailing over her body. “Yeah,” he answers, almost flippantly. 

She chokes down a laugh. “What makes you think I’m going to do something just because you asked me to?” 

“Nothing in particular,” he answers, before giving her a heart-stoppingly cocky grin. She hates how it makes her blush intensify, how it tempts her to pull him in for a kiss and to not stop. “You just asked for my opinion, and I gave it.” 

Devi scoffs, turning on her heel and walking back into the dressing room before her stupid boyfriend tempts her  _ too _ much. “You’re impossible.” 

“Yeah, yeah,” he laughs. 

She tries on a few more blouses and dresses, a few pairs of jeans, but, to her frustration, Ben gives her to same answer every single fucking time. 

“Ben!” She stomps her foot after the seventh time in a row, frustrated with him. “Come on,” she groans. “I want your honest opinion, not just for you to tell me I look great.” 

His brows knit together in confusion. “But I  _ am _ giving you my honest opinion!” he protests. “You look great!” 

Stepping forward, she jabs him in the chest with her pointer finger, making him stumble back a bit. “Ben,” she goads, “I want you to be honest to me. Don’t lie.” She jabs him again, irritated. “Come on.” 

Ben catches her hand, wincing. “Please stop stabbing me in the chest,” he winces. 

“No! Not until you give me an honest answer!” 

He rolls his eyes. “I  _ am, _ Devi. You look great, in everything. You always look great.” 

She blinks, stunned. “Oh,” she says, her voice small. “You mean that?” 

He blushes, a pink flush spreading over his cheeks. “Y—yeah,” he stammers out. “Of course I do.” 

She smiles, pleased. “Oh. Thank you.” 

She leans in, pressing a kiss to his cheek, before pulling back. “Feel free to tell me how great I look all the time,” she laughs, winking at him. 

He rolls his eyes, but he’s smiling. “I’ll keep that in mind.” 

Patting his cheek, she steps back. “Sap. I just have a few more dresses that I have to try on, and then we can get going.” 

He glances at his watch. “Yeah, we’re good on time.”

Devi tries on a few more dresses, all of which Ben responds to with a “you look great,” which, like, she appreciates, now that he knows it’s true. 

She slips on the final outfit, the one she’s most excited to try on, a dress that looks really similar to the one that Amy Santiago wore in that episode of  _ Brooklyn Nine-Nine _ with the dinner party at Holt’s house. 

High collared, bright red, and as she tucks her hair behind her ears, she wishes she had some red lipstick to complete the look. She slips on a pair of black heels she was looking at before, smoothing her hands down the torso of the dress. She feels really, really pretty. It’s dressy and soft beneath her fingers, and she feels her heart beat a bit faster in her chest as she steps out of the dressing room. 

“So,” she says, nervously fiddling with her hands, “what do you think?” 

Ben glances up from his phone and freezes in his tracks. “Oh, wow,” he breathes. 

She steps forward, shaking a bit on her heels—which she’s still not totally used to walking in. “You like it?” 

He holds his hand out, and she places her hand in his, enjoying how easily his warm fingers wrap around the back of her hand, tugging her in, closer to him. “You look beautiful,” he murmurs, eyes casting over her face. 

It’s so reminiscent of their first date she can’t help herself, and she leans in, kissing him. 

Ben responds eagerly, kissing her back hard. 

His mouth is hot on hers, and there’s no uncertainty in his kiss, nothing but determination and intent, and it sends a shiver of pleasure down her spine, pooling low in the pit of her stomach. 

There are not many times Ben kisses her like this, like he can’t get enough of her, but every time he does she can’t help but love it. He did it on their first date, and he does it again now, a sweeping kiss that leaves her legs shaking, her heart racing in her chest, at odds with how easily she melts into him. 

Ben’s hand sweeps down her side, mapping her curves out, rubbing a circle into her hip, soothing and steady, even as she feels like she’s about to pass out. She curls one hand into his shirt, the other running through his hair to settle at the nape of his neck, pulling him closer, closer. 

She tilts her head, pressing herself flush against him, deepening the kiss, letting his tongue slip into her mouth, touch her own, and it’s like she’s been flooded with light, sunlight sweeping through her. 

(devi remembers the properties of light, that it acts like both a particle and a wave at the same time, a puzzling complexity of both and neither. that is what kissing ben is like, both and neither, an exothermic and endothermic reaction all at the same time. kissing him brings her to the highest of heights while grounding her on the steadiest earth she has ever known. wrapped in his arms, his mouth pressed against hers, she feels like light, both a particle and a wave, floating and steady, impossible extremes, opposing properties, all at once)

Devi grips him tightly when he pulls away, knees shaky, sure that if he lets her go, she’s going to collapse, letting out a low, shaky breath. 

Looking into her eyes she feels pure emotion flood her. Her heart beats out his name, and he’s embedded into her, now coded into her DNA. Her nucleotides have shifted and transformed themselves to spell out his name over and over again, and she stares into those brilliantly beautiful, blue eyes of his as she tries to gather her thoughts. 

“Hi,” he breathes, scoring his thumb across her cheek, a soft smile curling over his lips.

“I love you.” 

The second the words spill out of her mouth she knows they are true. Falling in love has—has never been something she has really thought about, more of a concept rather than a reality, something for the distant future. 

But she loves Ben. She is sure of that fact, surer than most things in her life. And of course she is. Ben is more stable than most things in her life. 

His eyes widen, and she holds her breath, waiting for his response. 

“Oh, wow,” he murmurs. “I knew I was a good kisser, but not like—that good.” 

“For fuck’s sake, really?” she snaps. “That’s your response?” She pulls herself out of his arms as he chuckles. “I just told you I love you, and that’s what you have to say?” 

He grins. “I appreciate it.” 

“Enjoy that kiss, buddy, cause it’s the last one you’re getting.” She turns away from him, but he grabs her by the wrist, spinning her back towards him and pressing his lips to hers for a split second, hard and determined. 

“In case it wasn’t obvious,” he breathes, pulling back from her. “I love you too.” 

Despite the absolute  _ asshole _ move he just pulled, the words soften her and—oh fuck, she’s just going to keep doing that whenever he tells her now, isn’t she?—a smile spreads across her face. His words burst in her stomach like pop rocks, sweet and explosive all at the same time. “Really?” 

He nods. “Yeah, really. I love you.” 

She leans forward and buries her face in his neck, breathing him in. He loves her. He  _ loves _ her. 

“I love you,” she says, again. She doesn’t think she’ll ever get tired of saying the words. 

(if there’s anyone on this planet who deserves to hear these words from her more than anyone, it’s ben. they’d been far and fleeting during his childhood, and she knows just how important they are. she’s going to make sure he knows he’s loved, going to make sure he feels her love. she’ll tell him until her voice goes hoarse and then she’ll trace it on his skin until it comes back, and then she’ll do it all over again, because she  _ loves _ him) 

Ben’s arms slide around her waist, holding her to him. “I love you, Devi,” he whispers. 

Devi pulls back, running her fingers across the curve of his cheek. His eyes are bright, brighter than she’s ever seen them, and she can’t stop looking at his face, taking him in. She loves him so much she thinks she might explode from it. 

“I love you, Ben,” she murmurs. 

She leans in and presses her lips to his, kisses him soft and slow and sweet, savoring how his mouth presses against hers so impossibly gently. She just wants to kiss him for as long as she can, to melt into him until she can’t tell where she ends and he begins. 

God, she loves him. She loves everything about him, from the way he laughs to the way he smiles to the way his eyes shine, even the way he smirks when he beats her on a quiz or a test. There’s nothing about him she doesn’t love, even the things she doesn’t like. 

She can feel him smile through the kiss, smile as her fingers flit over his cheeks, trying to sear every inch of him into her memory. She wishes she were able to tell him she loves him and to kiss him at the same time, because both are things she craves to do all the time. 

She can't fathom how anyone couldn’t love Ben with their whole heart. Devi loves him so much it physically hurts with the intensity of it sometimes, feels like it’s something she can’t remove from herself. She never wants to remove it. 

She’s completely, totally in love with him, and she wants him to know it. 

Devi pulls back, just a fraction away, so her lips just brush his, and whispers it again. “I love you.” 

Ben leans forward and presses his forehead against hers. “You do?” 

She never wants him to question her love ever again. He needs to know that she loves him, deserves to know why. 

“I love you, Ben,” she murmurs. “I love everything about you. And I—I need you to know that. I need you to know that I love everything about you.” Her eyes are still closed, but she knows his face almost as well as she knows her own. Her heart is his, wholly his, and muscle memory (the heart is a muscle) is what allows her to reach up and run her fingers underneath his eyes easily. “The color of your eyes and the way you smile and the way you laugh and how you challenge me every single day. I love all of it. All of you.” 

He presses his thumb against her lip, dragging it down slightly, and she can feel his eyelashes brush her cheek. “I love everything about you, Devi.” 

She knows this. She knows Ben loves her, because Ben might guard his heart, but when he’s letting her see it, he wears on it his sleeve so easily she can’t ignore it. Ben loves her without boundaries, without the same hang-ups she has. He loves her with all of him.

And Devi loves him with all of her. 

She breathes him in. Promises herself that right now, she will give him everything he wants. She wants everything for him. 

(devi is all of fifteen—almost sixteen—and she knows this right now. loving ben is something she thinks she was always meant to do. there is a thin line between hate and love, and she never really hated him. some part of her was always meant to love him. ben has always been such an important part of her life, an integral part of her life, and she knows he always will be, no matter what happens. if it were anyone else in the world, she would worry about the intensity of emotion she is feeling, would worry about the implications of saying those three words, but not when it comes to ben. blue stars in his eyes, and the promise of the galaxy in his touch. the whole universe in one person) 

God, she loves him so much. 

“You know,” he murmurs. “You were calling me a sap all day, but you said it first.” 

Devi laughs, pulling her forehead back to look him in the eyes. “What?”

Ben’s gaze is both affectionate and smug as he scans her, an impossible combination only he can achieve. “You were calling me sappy all day because of it, but you said “I love you” first, you know.” 

Devi groans. “Oh god, you’re going to hold this over me for like, forever, aren’t you?” she groans, letting her head fall onto his shoulder. 

Ben laughs, turning his head and pressing a kiss to the crown of her head. “Well, I wouldn’t be me if I didn’t, would I?” he smirks, smug. 

“That’s a fair point,” she grumbles, “but I was hoping you would take pity on me just this once.” 

“If I had said it first, would you take pity on me?” he counters, and, well, he’s got a point there. 

“Ok,” she sighs. “I guess I can see where you’re coming from. But still. You’re gonna be chivalrous and  _ not _ lord it over me, right? Like you said on our first date, you’re a gentleman. Gentlemen don’t act smug.” 

He snorts, hand smoothing up and down her back, the other one digging into her hip to pull her closer to him. “What’s the fun in that?” 

“The fun in that, Gross,” she says, pulling away from him and looping her arms around her neck, “is that your girlfriend will be a lot more inclined to kiss you.” 

He raises his eyebrows. “What, you mean I haven’t sufficiently persuaded her to kiss me more often?” 

Devi taps her finger against her chin, pretending to consider it. “No, I don’t think you have.” 

“Shame,” he smirks. “What do you think I can do to change that?” 

“Well,” she says, tugging on her lip with her teeth, “first things first, you can kiss her again.” 

Ben leans forward, and her eyes flutter shut, anticipating his lips to fall on hers, so she squeaks in surprise when she feels his lips press against her eyelids, trail down her nose to the corner of her mouth, scattering them across her face. “Ben,” she whines. 

“Yes, Devi?” he hums. 

“Don’t be a dick.” 

“How am I being a dick right now?” he whispers, fingers skating up her sides, dancing across her skin, causing her to let out a few giggles. 

“You won’t—you won’t kiss me where I want you to kiss me,” she manages, trying to bite her laughter back so she won’t draw any attention to their little corner of the store. 

“Oh, sorry,” he whispers. “I mean, if I’m as simple-minded as you always claim I am, I’m going to need you to provide a little more details as to where I should kiss you.” 

“You’re fishing, Gross,” she sings, tightening her grip on him when he kisses the corner of her mouth, trailing up and across her cheek. 

“Fishin’ for what?” he mumbles, lips muffled against the tip of her nose. 

Devi can’t take it anymore, so she slides her hand up around from his neck and tilts her head, catching his lips squarely with hers. She kisses him until she can feel him start to melt into the kiss, and then pulls away. “Fishing for that,” she whispers, relishing in the dazed look on his face. 

Ben sighs, nuzzling his nose into her neck and brushing his lips against her skin. “Yeah, well, my plan worked.” 

“You’re not Dr. Doofenschmirtz, Ben,” she drawls. “You don’t need to have an evil plan set up to kiss me.” 

“Yeah, but the plan makes it even more fun.” 

She finally disentangles herself from him, wobbling on the heels she’s wearing as she steps back. “So,” she laughs. “I should get this dress?” 

He runs a finger down the length of her arm. “Yeah,” he agrees. “Yeah, you should.” 

He grins at her, bright and beautiful, and it steals the air out of her lungs. She hopes she never stops being so enchanted by his smile. Ben’s smile is one of the most beautiful sights in the world, something beyond earthly. His smile reminds her of spiral galaxies and imploding stars, celestial and beautiful. 

She can’t believe she went ten whole years without really being confronted with the full force of his smile, more dangerous than a black hole, but now that she knows what it is like, she pulls it from him as often as she can. 

(and sometimes she can’t believe she used to try to make him upset instead of happy, because right now all she wants to do is make him happy. sometimes she feels like she was put on this earth for nothing but to make ben happy. sometimes she mourns the ten years they lost, with her being so stupidly stubborn, but then she reminds herself that if something had changed, they may not have ended up here, and she cannot imagine anything worse)

“Nice,” Devi says, smiling back. “I’ll be right back, ok?” 

He nods, stuffing his hands in his pockets as she turns around and ducks back into the dressing room. Devi changes out of the dress and pulls the heels out, tugging on her regular clothes. 

She leaves the majority of the clothes in the dressing room, grabbing only a few outfits and the pair of heels before stepping out in her boots. “So,” he says, pulling out his wallet as they approach the counter, “you ended up not getting that much stuff.” 

“You weren’t serious about paying for me, were you?” 

His brows furrow. “Uh, yeah I was.” 

Devi plants her hands on her hips and glares at him. “Ben! I told you, I don’t accept charity!” 

“It’s not charity, David,” he says, handing his card over to the cashier. “Plus,” he leans in, “I love you, and I want to spend money on you.” 

(fucking hell, those words have an unfair amount of power over her, because she literally  _ feels _ herself cave, give into what he wants, just because he told her he loves her. she wants to hate him for it, but she can’t. she just loves him) 

Devi blushes red and ducks her head. “Fine,” she relents, unwilling to let him see the true extent that those words have on her. “Just this once, ok?” 

“Fine,” he agrees, but she can tell by the tone in his voice it won’t be this once at all. In fact, she’ll likely have to fight him on it increasingly in the future.

She grabs her bags—which Ben immediately takes out of her hands, seriously, what the fuck. 

“I’m not an invalid, Ben,” Devi says. 

“I know, but I am a gentleman.” 

She scowls at him and grabs the bag containing her shoes back. “I’m carrying  _ something.” _

“Well, I still get to hold your hand this way,” he says, reaching for hers and tangling their fingers together.

“You’re a controlling bastard,” she grins. 

“You mispronounced gallant,” he quips back, nudging the door open with his shoulder as they walk out of the store. 

“No, I prefer this name for you.” They make their way out of the mall slowly, ambling under a mix of fluorescent lights and sunlight. 

“Oh, that’s something we need to discuss,” he says, thumb stroking softly over the back of her hand. “What’s gonna be our pet names?” 

She snorts. “I don’t  _ do _ pet names.” She pretends to think about it as they head down the stairs. “I could always just keep calling you idiot?” she offers. 

Ben just grins placidly at her. “What’s the name I should have for you?” 

Devi tilts her head at him, chewing on her lip. “Uh, my name?” 

“Yeah but like. How are we going to establish this is like, an actual relationship now?” 

“An actual relationship? What have we been doing for the last three months, putting on a show?” she drawls. 

Ben rolls his eyes. “Ok, but like, pet names are the hallmark of a relationship.” 

“You could always call me ‘badass bitch’,” she offers. “That’s what I call myself in my head.” 

Ben shoots her a deadpan look as they walk out of the mall, making their way across the mall parking lot. “I’m not calling you a badass bitch—even if that’s what you are,” he hastens to add, seeing her eyes flash in with displeasure. “I need something better than that.” 

“Y’all?” 

“No,” he says flatly. “Never. Come on, what do you like? Pumpkin? Sugarkins? Honey donut?” 

She bites back a giggle. “Honey donut? Ben, you’re just trying to be ridiculous. Absolutely not.” 

He grins at her, tugging her closer to him as they walk towards his car. “Sweetness?” 

“No.” 

“Cinnamon?” 

“Is that a pet name?” 

“Flour? Baking soda?” 

“Now you’re just naming things that people use to bake, Ben.” 

“I can’t help it,” he laughs. “A lot of pet names are food products. You know, sugar and spice and everything nice?” 

“It’s weird,” she scowls at him. 

“Aww, lighten up, babe.” he smirks. 

She flushes then, pink, the words striking something unexpected in her, a chord she didn’t know existed being pulled taut and reverberating in her stomach. Devi scowls, trying to get it under control before Ben notices, but of course he does, because the world fucking  _ hates her. _

“You like that?” he murmurs. They finally reach his car, and instead of unlocking it like she expected, he just drops the bag holding her clothes next to it and wraps his now free hand around her waist. 

She drops her bag too, hand digging into his bicep as he crowds her against the car, not harshfully, but purposefully. He leans in, so close she thinks she might lose her breath. “Babe.” 

She bites back a whimper, barely suffocating it in her throat, hating how her cheeks flush. “Stop,” she protests, weakly. 

Ben smirks, impossibly smug. “You do like that.” 

He leans in, presses a kiss to her cheek. “Do you want me to stop?” he murmurs. “I can if that’s what you really, really want, babe.” 

“Ben,” she says. “Don’t be a dick.” 

“I’m not, Devi.” he laughs, pressing another kiss to her forehead. 

“You’re insufferable, you know that?” she bites out, insanely frustrated. 

“I love you, babe.” 

It’s her breaking point, and frankly, she doesn’t care if she loses it by snapping, not anymore. Devi shifts the hand pressed against his arm to his collar, curling her hand around her shirt and tugging him in. 

It’s a bruising kiss, his mouth hot and hard against hers, and she kisses him half in anger and half because she needs to be closer to him, needs to feel him. He tugs her flush against him, and kisses her hard, hungry. 

(he’s never kissed her like this before, with so much intent and desperation behind it, a sharp edge of hunger that she wants to explore. she feels like she is hydrogen, and he helium, and right now they are undergoing nuclear fusion, the kind that sustains the core of a star) 

She tightens her grip on his collar, still squeezing his hand, and Ben’s hand on her abdomen feels like a fire spreading through her, devastating and revitalizing at the same time. But, like a fire, the kiss consumes her oxygen, and she needs to breathe, so she pulls away, blinking hazily at him. 

“There,” she says. “That shut you up.” 

He presses another kiss to her cheek. “Nah,” he breathes. “Now I just have a few tricks up my sleeve.” 

She rolls her eyes, pulling away from him, but finds their hands are still laced together. “Can’t even let go of me for a second, can you?” She holds their joined hands up together as evidence, smirking when Ben rolls his eyes. 

He lets go of her hand to fish in his pocket for the keys to his car, letting her open the backseat doors and toss her bags in. “Do you want me to let go of you?” he asks. 

Devi slams the door shut and tugs him closer by the collar of his shirt. “No.” 

She leans in to kiss him, but then stops cold, gasping in surprise. “Ben! We forgot to take our picture!” 

Ben gapes at her. “This coming from the girl who rolled her eyes every single time I took my phone out the first month we were dating?” 

She blushes. The truth is, she’s gotten kind of used to Ben’s tradition of taking a picture of them every time they go on a date. It’s kind of stupid, and really sappy, but she likes it. She hates that she likes it, but she does. 

“Ok, fine,” she grumbles. “I’ve gotten used to it, ok? And we’ve done it like, twenty times. We have to keep it up  _ now.” _

“Twenty-six, actually,” he corrects. 

“You’ve been keeping track?” she says, shocked. 

He smiles a bit sheepish. “Yeah. This is our twenty-seventh date.” 

She throws her head back and laughs. “You’re such a dork, and I love you. Come on, let’s take the pic.” 

He pulls out his phone, and when he turns it on, she sees the lockscreen. 

“Wait, what the fuck!” she shrieks, grabbing it from his hands. “Why is  _ this _ your lock screen?” 

Ben furrows his brows, scratching the back of his neck. “Cause it’s a good photo?” 

Devi nearly throws his phone across the parking lot in shock. “Uh, no it’s not!” 

“Yeah, it is. Come on, we both look great. Especially me,” he grins. 

She scowls at him. “First of all, we both know I’m the hotter one of us, and secondly, out of literally hundreds of photos we’ve taken together and twenty-six ones of us on dates, you chose  _ this  _ one?” 

“Devi, I love this photo of us.” 

She sighs, glancing down at his phone. 

Well. It’s not a  _ bad _ photo, perse. In fact, the longer she looks at it, the more she likes it. 

It’s the photo Ben had taken of her—well, of them, really, on their first date. It’s not a full body picture, because he’d been the one snapping it, cropping off at their shoulders. The angle is tilted, because he'd just been tapping away at his phone clumsily, but they’re clear, in high definition. 

She remembers the exact moment that is in this photo exactly, when she’d laughed at him, called him dumb for wanting a photo memory of their first date. And yeah, part of her still thinks it’s dumb, but like everything about Ben, she can’t help but love it. 

His mouth is crinkled in a smile, and so is hers, and neither of them are looking at the camera, smiles pressed against each other in a poor facsimile of a kiss. They’re just smiling at each other, noses bumping awkwardly, and it’s a ridiculous photo. She looks stupid. 

(stupidly happy, her brain supplies)

Devi sighs, thumb flicking across the screen. “Ok,” she admits. “It’s not  _ that _ bad of a photo.” 

Ben gently slips his phone out of her hand and smiles at her. “It’s real. That’s why I liked it so much.” 

She rolls her eyes. “Why are you such a sap?” she groans. 

“You’re still the sap who said “I love you” first,” he points out, again.

Devi glares at him, watching a smile quirk up the corner of his mouth. “Dick.” 

“I love you too, Devi. Come on, let’s take the photo.” 

She sighs, leaning her head on his shoulder. “How should we take it this time?” 

Instead of answering, Ben just leans in and kisses her forehead. Her eyes slip shut in contentment. “Dumbass,” she murmurs. “You wanna take a photo like this?” 

“Yeah,” he murmurs. “We can take nicer photos whenever.” 

“Whenever?” she murmurs, tucking her face further into his neck. “You’re making pretty big assumptions about our future, Gross.” 

“I think I can.” 

“You do, huh? I dunno, Gross. These photos aren’t very flattering.” 

He laughs, presses another kiss to her forehead. “We don’t need to show them to anyone else.” 

He’s right, of course, and Devi presses her lips to his neck, breathing in the scent of him, strong and faint and  _ good. _

“These ones are just for us.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> your comments and kudos make me happier than rebecca dragging paxton! come talk to me about the show! you can find me on tumblr: @[parkersedith](https://parkersedith.tumblr.com)


	3. date seventy-five (one year, seven months, and twenty-two days)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _“Just because you fell for my irresistible charms—which no one can really blame you for, I am quite a catch—”_
> 
> _“Oh yeah, short white guy with a horrible sense of humor and non-existent fashion sense, every woman’s dream man, for sure,” she drawls,_
> 
> _“—doesn’t mean that you’re not still crazy obsessed with me, because we both know you are.”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> y'all, i did 8/19 readings for my uni courses today and i'm still planning on doing more later today, so i cannot stress the level of declining mental stability that i contain. i'm s p i r a l i n g so that's my excuse for this chapter even tho it was written like. mid august
> 
> anyways leila congrats on finishing that dumb as fuck mind map. hope you like this babe ✌️✌️✌️

“Hey,” he hums. 

He flinches when she slams her locker door, turning away from him. “Hello, Ben,” she snaps. “Is there something you wanted from me today?” 

Ben grins sheepishly, trailing after her like a lost puppy. “Uh, you look great today?” he offers. 

Devi shoots him a dark,  _ dark, _ glare, stalking down the hallway to seemingly her APUSH class—except the class is in the opposite direction and he’s about 97% sure she’s just doing this to run away from him. “I always look great, Gross.” 

Ben sighs. “Devi, look, I’m sorry, ok?” 

She whirls around, stabbing him in the chest. “You can’t just turn up here with your fucking blue eyes and stupid smile and say “you look great” and except me to forget what happened, Ben! You cheated! I’m never going to forget that!” 

“But—but I didn’t cheat!” he protests. 

She narrows her eyes at him. “I  _ caught _ you,” she spits out. Devi tosses her hair over her shoulder, whirling away from him, but Ben darts around to appear in front of her again. 

“Look, Devi, I’m really sorry,” he says, sighing. “I didn’t mean to.” 

She snorts, carefully glancing at her nails. “That’s what they all say.” 

“Can you please forgive me?” He reaches down and takes one of her hands in his. “I love you.” 

Instantly, the words soften her, and the tension melts out from her shoulders, like he knew it would. She flushes, pink, eyes peering out at him from underneath long, thick, dark lashes. “You can’t just say that and expect me to stop being mad at you every time, Ben,” she breathes, already letting him pull her to him. 

“Why not?” he says, smirking. “It works.” 

She rolls her eyes, opening her mouth to say something, but it’s muffled when he presses his lips to hers, quick but firm. 

“Hey guys,” Eleanor says, appearing. “What’s going on?” 

Ben turns to grin at her. “Devi forgave me for cheating.” 

“Oh my god, Devi!” Eleanor says, turning to her friend. “It was just  _ Monopoly!” _

Devi throws her hands up in the air. “He still cheated! And don’t you go accusing me of being too dramatic, Eleanor. Weren’t you the one who said you would break my spine if I took Park Place from you?” 

Eleanor scowls. “I still stand by that.” she says, flipping her hair over her shoulder. 

Ben rolls his eyes and turns back to Devi, pressing his lips to hers once more, firmly, lingering a bit longer this time, feeling her melt into him, relishing in the soft sigh she lets out against his mouth.

“Disgusting,” he hears Eleanor choke, and then the clack of her heels as she walks away, but as soon as the noise vanishes, Devi takes up all his attention once more. 

(he would say she is like a black hole, except she is nothing as wholly devastating and destructive as a black hole. devi is more like—more like watching a falling star streak across the sky. wholly captivating, but not disastrous or harmful. the exact opposite, in fact. she consumes him with a sense of peace and contentment. she gives him life, instead of taking it away) 

Devi breaks away first, face flushed. “We’re literally in school,” she hisses. 

Ben just smirks at her. “First of all, like, no one is here yet,” he says, glancing around—which is true, the buses haven’t arrived yet, so it’s mostly just a few upperclassmen loitering around the halls, most of them having fucked off to hang in the courtyard this early. “And second of all, you like it when I kiss you.” 

She swats him with her textbook, finally turning on her heel and heading in the direction of her APUSH class. “Full of yourself, aren’t you?” 

“Don’t you think I have a right to be? After all, we’ve been dating for like, over a year and a half.” 

She rolls her eyes at him. “Yeah, right,” she says, snorting. 

Ben furrows his eyebrows. “Yeah, Devi, we have. We started dating in November of sophomore year, we’re in June of junior year now.” 

Devi stops in her tracks, mouth dropping open. “We’ve been dating for eighteen months?” she whispers. 

Ben nods. “Uh, more like nineteen, but yeah.” 

“Damn,” she groans, rubbing her head with her hand as she falls back into step with him. “Why do I feel like it’s been both longer and shorter than that?” 

“Time is a human construct, David,” he says, holding open the door to the APUSH classroom for her. 

She snorts, shooting him an amused-slash-exasperated glance as she sits down at her desk. It’s just the two of them in this class, both Eleanor and Fabiola too disinterested in history to bother loading their schedule with APs. “And the answer to the universe is 42,” she replies, crossing her legs underneath her desk. 

He sits next to her, like he always does, pulling out his homework, smirking.  _ “Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy? _ Didn’t expect you to make that reference, David.” 

Devi grins, although she doesn’t turn her face from her homework. “It’s a classic reference, Gross. I am well-versed in the classics.” 

“Such as  _ Cosmo _ and  _ People?” _ he asks cheekily. 

“Try  _ Othello _ and  _ Macbeth,” _ she replies, not missing a beat. 

Her phone buzzes on the desk next to her, lighting up with a text message, and she swipes it off the desk, fingers flicking over the screen. “Fab wants to know if you’re still on for our double date with her and Eve on Friday night.” 

“We’re headed to the carnival, right?” 

She nods, frowning slightly as she types something back. “Yeah, I think so. Do you wanna get dinner there?” 

He snorts. “Do I want to get dinner at a place that’s 89% grease and 11% processed air? No—” 

Ben breaks off as soon as he glances up and sees the eyebrow on Devi’s face rising dangerously high, as if  _ daring _ him to protest. 

He sighs, running his hand over his face. “Yeah, ok, babe. We’ll get dinner there, the four of us.” 

“Great!” she chirps happily, turning back to her work. 

“Yeah, and I’ll die of heart disease at 25,” he mutters to himself. 

“What was that, Benjamin?” she says, turning to him, voice dangerously sharp. 

Fuck, Devi never calls him that unless she’s  _ pissed. _

“No—nothing,” he stammers out, offering her a weak smile. “Just excited.” 

She narrows her eyes at him, nodding her head. “You better be.” 

Ben sighs, leaning back in his chair. Well, if the food didn’t kill him, his girlfriend certainly would.

* * *

Friday rolls around faster than he anticipates, so he’s a bit shocked when Devi bounds up to him after school, bouncing on the balls of her feet. “Come on, you ready to go?” 

He sighs, rubbing the bridge of his nose with his fingers. “Devi, are we really doing this?” 

She crosses her arms, scowling at him. “What’s wrong?” 

“Nothing, babe,” he says, closing his locker door and shifting his backpack strap over his shoulder. “I’m just a bit drained.” 

Devi’s face morphs into a slightly more sympathetic one. “Hey,” she murmurs, stepping close to her. “You’re ok?” 

He nods. “Yeah I’m just—” he breaks off, leaning against his locker. “I don’t know, I’m tired of school.” 

“Senioritis as a junior, Gross?” she teases. “That’s oxymoronic. Or just moronic.” 

He gives her a slightly tired smile. “Not necessarily oxymoronic, as seniors and juniors aren’t opposites, but it is a bit dumb.” 

Devi runs his hand down his arm and tangles her fingers with his. “If you’re really not up for the carnival and dinner tonight, we can cancel,” she suggests. “You can go home and get some rest? Watch more of that stupid documentary series you like.” 

_ “America: The Story of Us  _ isn’t a stupid documentary series, but no, it’s ok.” He stands up straighter and leans forward, pressing his lips to her forehead, before pulling back and giving her a smile. “I’m ok to go.” 

She trails her other hand up his shoulder and cups his jaw, fingers stroking his cheek. “You sure?” 

“Yeah,” he says, laughing. “Plus, we can turn it into a competition. Make it a little more fun, raise the stakes.” 

Devi grins. “I like where you’re going, Gross, but I hope you know you’re going down.” 

He smirks, stepping closer to her. “You sure about that?” 

“Yeah, Ben, I am sure about that.” She presses her lips to his for a second before tugging him down the hall. “Let’s  _ go. _ Don’t want to keep Fab and Eve waiting for us.” 

* * *

Ben steps out of the car, mouth dropping open slightly. They’re at the Commons, a general recreational space in Sherman Oaks where the fair is held every year, in mid-June, and it’s  _ insane. _

There’s so much going on he can hardly take it in; classic games everywhere, a Ferris Wheel that towers over everything else in the fair, and he glances around in amazement. 

“Wow,” he breathes. “This is kind of cool.” 

Devi grins, squeezing his hand. “I know, right? I love coming here. Makes me feel like a little kid again.” 

Ben nods. “Yeah, considering you have the emotional maturity of a seven-year-old, I can see why.” 

“Considering you have the emotional range of a teaspoon, I thought you might fit in here too.” 

“Quoting  _ Harry Potter _ at me, David? Come on, you can do better than that,” he smirks, grinning. 

Devi laughs, shaking her head in exasperation. “Come on, you dork. We gotta find our friends.” 

They locate Fabiola and Eve by the funnel cake. “Hey guys,” Devi says, raising her hand in greeting.

“Hey, Ben,” Fabiola says. She’s dressed in overalls, hair a wild mess around her face, and not for the first time, Ben wonders how she is so effortlessly cool. 

Eve just nods at them, mouth full of funnel cake. “Sup.” 

He tilts his head to the side. “How is the funnel cake?” 

“Sweet as hell,” Eve answers. “Probably will rot my brain.” 

“Nice,” Devi says, grinning. “I want five of them.” 

Ben rolls his eyes. “Of course you do.” 

Devi raises her eyebrow. “What’s that supposed to mean?” 

“Nothing,” he says, smirking. “Just that you have a bit of a sweet tooth, babe.” 

“A bit of a sweet tooth. Are you calling me fat, Ben?” 

Ben snorts. “No. I’m just saying you have a bit of a sugar addiction, that’s all.” 

“A bit of a sugar addiction!” she shrieks. “I don’t have a bit of a sugar addiction, you idiot. You’re the one with the weirdly healthy taste in food. You’re seventeen, Ben, not eighty-five. Although you have the same sense of humor as an old guy, so no wonder you treat your body like it’s about to fall apart.” 

“Excuse me, my body is a temple, David.” 

“Ben, you could literally eat like, rocks, and you would bounce back from it. You’re seriously going to waste your teenage years eating the same food as an octogenarian? It’s such a waste of time.” 

“You have to start taking care of your body at a young age, David. Epigenetics are a thing, you know?” 

“Having fun is a thing. I mean, come on, scientific studies aside—because we both know that you don’t have the mental capacity to read any of those and absorb them properly—you’re literally seventeen. You’re at the fair. You  _ have _ to eat funnel cake.” 

“I like pizza!” he protests, trying to defend himself. 

Devi slips her hand out of his and plants them on her hips, turning to him fully. “Pizza is like, practically a vegetable,” she snorts. 

“I eat cheeseburgers and french fries,” he adds. “I literally had them on our first date.” 

“And you like  _ kale, _ so any argument you can say is invalid.” 

He throws his hands up in the air. “How does one point make my argument invalid?” 

“Because kale is objectively a horrible vegetable!” 

“Wait, is kale a vegetable?” he says, stopping in his tracks. “Isn’t it a leafy green?” 

“Greens are vegetables, Benjamin,” she says, scowling.

“Are they, though? Would you call a maple leaf a vegetable?”

“That’s the most asinine argument I’ve ever heard. Plus, lettuce is a thing, Gross. Lettuce. Don’t you think lettuce is a vegetable?” 

“Well, lettuce is a leaf!” 

“Lettuce isn’t a leaf!” she shrieks, before stopping and jabbing her pointer finger at him. “Ok, lettuce  _ is _ a leaf, but it’s also a vegetable.”

“Um, excuse me?” Eve cuts in. 

Ben blinks, turning to them. Right. He forgot they were here. “Are you guys arguing about lettuce?” 

“Not the weirdest thing they’ve ever bickered about, Eve,” Fabiola drawls, sipping her lemonade. “In fact I’d put lettuce on the low end of the spectrum cause it’s at least a valid argument. I mean, I could see myself having a debate on this.” 

Devi shoots her best friend an offended look. “Uh, what the hell are you talking about?” 

“You and Ben have the weirdest arguments on everything, ever,” she says slowly. “Like, seriously, if it exists as a topic, you guys find a way to bicker about it.” 

“Uh, what?” Ben says, confused as all hell. 

“Remember the time you two got into a screaming match in Shapiro’s over whether or not a straw had two holes or one hole?” 

“One,” Ben says. 

“Two,  _ duh.” _

“Or the time that you two spent thirty minutes at lunch arguing over how iconic of an actress Meryl Streep is.” 

“Insanely.” 

“Mediocre at best,” Devi responds. 

“Oh, what about the time they got the whole school divided on whether or not tomato is a fruit or a vegetable?” Eve buts in. “I remember the courtyard being  _ particularly _ interesting that day.” 

“It’s a vegetable!” 

“Tomatoes just suck, so like, who cares?” He crosses his arms, scowling. 

“My particular favorite though, of course, was whether or not cereal is a soup.” 

“It’s not!” he insists.

“Of course it is!” 

“But of course,” Fabiola sighs, “nothing will beat the flamingo argument of Valentine’s Day, junior year. But,” she hastens to add, seeing their mouths open, “we won’t go into that again, because that was seriously the dumbest thing I’ve ever seen.” 

Eve snorts. “It’s nice to know they’re like this all the time, not just around other people.” 

“Yeah, I don’t even want to know how bad your arguments get when you don’t have us to hold you back.” 

Ben glances at Devi, who lifts her eyebrow. He smirks. She smiles. He shrugs. She rolls her eyes. 

“Ok, that, right there,” Eve says, pointing at them. “That right there is some freaky shit.” 

“Oh yeah, for fucking sure,” Fabiola snorts. 

“What’s freaky?” Devi asks. 

“Just the whole—mind reading bullshit you guys do,” Eve says. 

“We have been dating for like, a year and a half,” he drones, slowly. 

"Yeah, but that’s the bullshit married couples pull. The bickering and the mind reading. How are you not freaked out about this, Fab?” Eve asks, turning to her girlfriend. 

“Cause they’ve been acting like this since fifth grade,” Fabiola answers easily. “You should have seen them when they started dating.” 

“I am literally so offended right now,” Ben says faintly. “I can’t believe you’re doing this, Fabiola. Where’s the loyalty?” 

Fab snorts. “Fuck loyalty. Come on, guys, let’s go play some games.” 

Devi leans over and whispers, as they follow Fabiola and Eve further into the fairgrounds, “Do you think they’re right?” 

“I don’t know,” he answers. “We don’t bicker too much, do we?”

She shoots him a fondly exasperated look. “We bicker a lot, to be fair.” 

They stop at a squirt gun machine, and she grins. “I’m fucking amazing at these. Prepared to be assaulted with teddy bears, Gross.” 

Ben holds his hand out. “Let’s make a bet. If I win more games in the next twenty minutes, you have to eat kale every day for the next week. If you win, I’ll eat a funnel cake.” 

“Make it two funnel cakes and you got yourself a bet.” 

“Deal.” 

They shake on it, and Ben grins. “Game on, David.” 

Devi turns to the squirt gun game and smirks, stretching her neck from side to side. “Watch and learn, motherfucker.” 

Ben has to laugh at her theatrics, but he crosses his arms and looks at her. He’s not very surprised when she only manages to knock down two of the targets after a few minutes, because Devi is not the most athletically inclined woman in the world. Of course, when he takes his turn, he doesn’t fare much better, only managing to knock down three. 

She narrows her eyes. “Oh, ok. Now it’s  _ really _ on.” 

They compete for the next few games. Ben wins when they throw darts at balloons, but Devi  _ crushes _ him when they have to throw ping pong balls in cups of water, claiming that sleepovers with Fabiola’s sick beer pong skills have caused her to develop some of her own. 

Ring toss she wins, of course, but he wins darts, but only by a small margin. But, a win is still a win. 

“Last one, David,” he sings, coming upon the whack-a-mole. “Let’s see who wins this.” 

Devi scowls at him, grabbing the mallet right out of his hands and whacking  _ him _ on the head with it. “There we go. Me. I win. Read it and weep, sucker.” 

He winces, rubbing at the spot where she smacked him with the mallet. “I don’t think that counts.” 

“Why not?” she quips, eyes dancing with mirth. “You have the same face as a mole.” 

He glares at her. “Oh, fucking hell, you’re going down now. Like, seriously.” 

She just grins, grips the mallet tighter, and smirks. “I’m gonna beat you with this hammer, just like I did at Model UN in sophomore year.” 

“Again, it was a  _ gavel, _ and you know inducing World War III does not count as any sort of actual victory whatsoever, right?” he says, raising an eyebrow. 

Devi just whacks him on the head with the mallet again. “Just shut up and let me beat you, Ben.” 

Ben rolls his eyes and turns away, staring determinedly at the whack-a-hole machine. “I’m beating you, Devi,” he murmurs. 

He, of course, does not end up beating her, and she crows as soon as they spot the point counter. “Are you kidding me?” he groans. “I’ve got like, thirty pounds of pure muscle on you.” 

“It’s not about muscle, Gross,” she says, mocking. Devi walks her fingers up his arm, slowly, purposefully, goosebumps erupting on his skin in the wake of her touch. “It’s about speed, and clearly, I’m faster than you.” 

He groans, placing the mallet back on the game console and letting her tuck her arm around his more fully. “I’m literally going to die from a blocked artery at seventeen because of you.” 

“Yes! Fab, Eve, do you guys want to—” Devi says, spinning around, but breaks off when she sees their friends have vanished. 

“Uh, where did they go?” she asks. 

Ben knits his brows together, glancing around them. “I have no idea,” he confesses. “I didn’t see them go.” 

Devi frowns, fishing in her purse for her phone. “Let me text Fab,” she suggests, but when she clicks the phone to turn it on, shock flits over her face. “Oh, I have a text from her.” 

She opens her phone and reads the text, and scowls. “What?” Ben says, craning his neck to see the message. “What did she say?” 

“She said, “I would rather flirt with my girlfriend than watch you two flirt, so Eve and I are going to do our own thing. Have fun.” I can’t believe this! They ditched us!”

“I mean, we are alone now,” he smirks, pulling her a bit closer. 

She snorts. “Yes, very alone in the middle of a fairground with hundreds of other people around. I see.” 

Ben rolls his eyes. “Come on, David. I want to fill the terms of this bet sooner rather than later.” 

He tugs on his elbow, pulling her along with him. “I can’t believe I get to see the great Benjamin Gross eating a funnel cake. Oh, how the mighty fall,” she teases. 

“You calling me jacked, Devi?” he grins, as they stand in line. 

She snorts. “Please. You’re a skinny twig.” 

He gapes at her. “What are you talking about? I could literally pick you up.” 

Devi flips her hair over her shoulder. “Yeah, right.” 

Ben glowers at her. “I’m feeling very attacked, right now.” 

They move forward in the line, and she pats his cheek. “Aww, your fragile masculinity under fire? Good.” 

He shakes his head, frowning. “You’re so mean to me.” 

Devi leans forward and presses her lips against his jaw. “There. Kissed it better.” 

He rolls his eyes. “Yeah, cause that helped.” 

“Stop fishing for more kisses, Gross,” she says easily. “Remember what we said about PDA?”

“Lame.” 

“You’re ridiculous,” she laughs. “Come on, let’s get our food.” 

She steps up to the counter. “Hi, we’ll take two drinks, two pizza slices, onion rings, and three funnel cakes, please.” 

“Onion rings?” he says, wrinkling his nose. 

“Yes, onion rings, Ben.” She removes her arm from his and plants them on her hip, eyeing him dangerously. “What, are you so bourgeoisie that you can’t have fucking onion rings?” 

“Ten dollar word there, David?” he smirks, pulling out his wallet. 

“Shut the fuck up and answer the question, you idiot. Are you going to eat the onion rings or not?” 

He wrinkles his nose. “Onions make your breath smell like, horrible, though.” 

She pauses. “Fair point, but I know you’re always carrying out some gum in your pocket,” she points out. “You always have it. And I have breath mints. So, we’re getting them.” 

He hands two twenties over to the cashier, waving his hand when the girl tries to give him his change back, taking the pizza slices and funnel cake while Devi grabs their drinks and the dreaded onion rings. “Come on,” she says, jerking her head towards the back of the fairground. “Let’s go there.” 

She grabs them a table in a more secluded corner in the fairground, hooking her foot around his and dragging him closer. “Playing footsie with me, David? Knew you were obsessed with me.” 

“Are you seriously saying that?” She takes a sip of her drink, rolling her eyes. “News flash, we’re in a  _ relationship, _ dickwad.” 

“Just because you fell for my irresistible charms—which no one can really blame you for, I  _ am _ quite a catch—” 

“Oh yeah, short white guy with a horrible sense of humor and non-existent fashion sense, every woman’s dream man, for  _ sure,” _ she drawls, 

“—doesn’t mean that you’re not still crazy obsessed with me, because we both know you are.” 

“You’re the one who’s crazy obsessed with me, Gross. Which one of us is the sappy romantic?” 

“You spend half your time watching romantic comedies and commenting on how no man can keep up with the magic of Tom Hanks.” 

“You watch those with me, and you know I’m right!” 

“Yes, and us mere mortals cannot compare to the romantic skills of 90’s Tom Hanks,” he points out, biting into one of the onion rings. 

“A tragedy for most women and some men everywhere,” she sighs dramatically, propping her chin up on her hand. 

“I can’t believe this,” he complains, taking a bite of his pizza. “Tom Hanks ruined the game for us. No man can hope to compare to Joe Fox or Forrest Gump.” 

“Yeah, but  _ When Harry Met Sally _ is still the best one, you know.” 

Ben snorts, shaking his head. “I beg to differ,” he snorts. “We both know the greatest romantic comedy of all time is  _ 10 Things I Hate About You, _ so, disproven.” 

“Factually incorrect and statistically unsound. The magnetism of Ryan and Crystal in Rob Reiner’s ‘89 classic is unparalleled. Carrie Fisher as Sally’s best friend? The New Year’s Eve kiss? Fucking fantastic.” 

He polishes off his pizza slice and reaches for one of the funnel cakes, biting into it. It’s fucking  _ good, _ sugary and sweet and the powdered sugar instantly gets all over his lips. He likes it, and he can tell by the look on Devi’s face she’s feeling impossibly smug that he likes it. “You only like it because of the deli scene.” 

“Well,” she says, smirking, “Meg Ryan was right about that. No man can tell when a woman’s faking it.” 

He frowns. “You really think that?” 

Devi snorts, reaching for her own funnel cake. “Yeah. Men are dumb.” 

“Glad to know I’ve given you such a high opinion of the male species, David.” 

“Are you kidding me, Gross?” she smirks, eyes sparkling. “You’ve lowered it.” 

He scowls at her, reaching for his next funnel cake. “That hurt, Devi.” 

Surprisingly, she softens, smiling at him. “I’m joking, Ben. Of course you haven’t lowered it.” 

“I should hope not,” he grumbles. “After all I’ve done for you.” 

She leans over and pats him on the cheek. “Thank you so much, honey,” she says, saccharine.

Ben sighs theatrically, taking another bite of his funnel cake. “I do all of this for you, babe, and what do I get in thanks, insults?” 

“It’s our love language,” she laughs. 

Ben reaches over and tucks a strand of hair behind her ear. “You’re not upset that Fabiola and Eve ditched us, right?” 

(sometimes, he still gets flashes of insecurity, despite nineteen months and devastatingly, completely, overwhelmingly in love with her. the human brain is not fully formed until twenty-five, and so he thinks that this might be why—why he feels things for her as much as he does. his brain is not yet prepped to handle the intensity of the emotion. sometimes he loves her so much it physically  _ hurts. _ sometimes he loves her so much he doesn’t think that he can breathe with the weight of it sitting in his lungs) 

His hand lingers on the curve of her cheek, her skin impossibly soft as always, and he lets his fingers run over her cheek again, feeling her relax into her touch. “No,” she murmurs. She turns her head, pressing her lips to his wrist. “I like spending my time with you.” 

Ben laughs, letting his hand drop from her cheek and turning, taking a bite of his funnel cake. “Well, I’m glad to hear that,” he says, swallowing. 

Suddenly, he feels her hands slide around his jaw and turn his head to the side, and then she’s tugging him in, pressing her lips to his, hard. 

She tastes impossibly good, like powdered sugar and syrup, sweet and irresistible on his tongue. He feels her tongue sweep across his lips and he opens his mouth to her, and dimly, in the back of his mind, he registers that they’re in public and he probably shouldn’t cross a ton of lines, but they’re kind of secluded and she’s kissing him and he can’t really think. 

Ben slides his hand up and lets it dig into her hair, impossibly soft against his fingers, cradling her head and tilting her head, letting him kiss her a little harder. She presses her hand against his chest, like she always does when he kisses her like this, passionate and almost consuming, and every time he does, he knows his heart is beating out her name. 

He loves her more than he thinks he’s ever loved anyone, and he already knows that no matter what happens between them after high school, she’ll hold a part of his heart, forever. 

Devi sighs against his mouth, and he can feel her lashes flutter against his cheek, her other hand stroking over his jaw, and he always loves when she kisses him like this, almost lazily, like she savors every single second, like they have all the time in the world together. 

Of course, when it comes to Devi, all the time in the world wouldn’t be enough. 

She pulls away then, thumb scoring over his lip. “Hi,” she breathes. She runs her thumb over his lip over and over again, smiling. “You have powdered sugar on your lips.” 

“That the only reason you kissed me?” 

She shakes her head. “No,” she whispers. “I love you.” She sighs, tilting her head and pressing her lips to his jaw. “I love you so much, Ben. Don’t ever forget that.” 

He slides his hands around her waist and tucks her into his side. “I love you too, Devi.” 

“No like, I really, really love you,” she murmurs. She tucks her face into his neck, pressing kisses there. “Like sometimes I’m so stupid in love with you and I don’t know what I’m going to do when—when the end of high school comes and—” 

“Hey, hey, Devi,” he murmurs, turning her face up to face him. Her eyes brim with tears, but then don’t spill, and he knows this is a victory for her. “I’m stupid in love with you too, you know that, don’t you?” 

“I do, Ben, but I don’t—fuck,” she breaks off, voice a bit choked. “I know this is so dumb, and I know that high school relationships never ever last, and that statistically the chances of us making it past the first year of college is dumb, and that all of the odds are against us, but I just—” 

“Since when have we ever followed the odds, Devi?” he says. “I don’t want to end us either. And we still have another year, you know?” 

She sniffs, and she blinks, eyes still a bit bright. “You—you don’t want to break up?” 

He leans forward, and presses his lips to the curve of her cheek. “I love you, Devi. Of course I don’t want us to break up at the end of high school. I love you, and a little something called distance isn’t going to be enough for me to let you go.” 

Devi runs her fingers over his face, mapping him out. “I don’t know what you did, Ben, but you made me feel stupid emotions for you. I think you’re like, half-wizard or something.” 

“You know that’s right. The only muggle in this relationship is you.” 

“So what—what do you want to do?” she whispers. 

“Well,” he murmurs. “I think we should be a little reckless, for once, don’t you?” 

Her eyes sparkle with mirth. “You wanna be the dumb youth the media always warns you about?” she whispers. 

“I think,” he laughs, “that between the two of us, we’ve got a pretty good chance at beating the odds. Don’t you?” 

She leans back a bit, sliding her hand down his arm to lace her fingers through his. “You are insanely in love with me, aren’t you?” 

“I am,” he smirks. “Are you gonna do something about it?” 

She tilts her head. “Not now, of course.” She pulls her hand out of his, winking at him. “But maybe a little later.” 

He grins at her. “Wanna give me any details?” 

Devi throws her head back, laughing brightly. “God, seriously? I’m not gonna seduce you in the middle of the fairgrounds, Ben.” She gathers their trash up and chucks it in the bin. “Come on, let’s go wander.” 

She holds her hand out and he accepts, letting her pull him to his feet. “You’re heavy,” she groans, as they duck around the back of the fairgrounds, where a lot less people are. 

He shoots her a wink. “It’s pure muscle.” 

Devi snorts. “Yeah, right. Just admit you’re both thick headed and you have a thick body.” 

“Muscle weighs more than fat, you know.” 

“You’ve still got more fat than muscle.” 

“That’s it.” he decides. He spins around and slides his arms around her thighs, hoisting her up. 

“Ben!” she shrieks, as he tosses her over his shoulder. “Put me down.” 

“Not until you admit I’m pure muscle.” 

“Oh my god!” She punches him in the back, and it hurts. “You jackass! Put me the fuck down!” 

He shifts his grip so he can hold her a bit easier. She’s freaking light as hell, and it’s too funny as she struggles, pushing against him. He walks forward, ignoring the punches she lands on his shoulders. “Nope. Not until you admit I’m all muscle.” 

“Biologically, that’s not even possible, dickwad,” she seethes, shoving her hands against his shoulders. He just tightens his grip on her, making it harder for her to push herself off of him. “You can’t be pure muscle. You’re more water than anything else. Actually, if we’re talking physics, and mentally, you’re more empty space than anything. You can’t be pure muscle.” 

“All I’m hearing are excuses, David,” he hums. 

“Fuck, how are you not tired?” she groans, finally quitting her punching, letting her arms hang. “We’ve been walking for like, two minutes.” 

“First of all, you’re a lightweight,” he says, smirking. “Second, I told you, pure muscle.” 

“Ben,” she whines. “Put me down.” 

“Sorry, babe,” he quips, laughing. “Not gonna happen until you admit it.” 

Devi sighs. “You are aware you’re a Grade A jackass, correct?” 

“Admit it, David,” he sings. “We’re getting closer to a lot of people.” 

“Put me down!” 

“No.” 

“Grade A jackass,” she mutters, but he can tell she’s going to cave. “I can’t believe you.” 

“You love me.” 

“Why?” Devi sighs. “You’re pure muscle, Ben,” she concedes. 

He grins. “Thank you.” He sets her down, and she punches him in the chest for that, lightly. 

“I can’t believe you,” she says. “You’re insane.” 

“And insanely jacked,” he grins, but then he thinks about what she said, and his smile wobbles. “Hey, can I ask you something?” 

Her expression turns serious, and she steps closer to him, placing her hand on his bicep, squeezing it slightly. “Yeah, of course, Ben. You can ask me anything?” 

“Don’t lie to me?” 

Devi’s other hand comes up to cup his jaw, fingers brushing the underside of his eyes. “I have never lied to you, and I will never lie to you.”

Ben takes a deep breath. “I—we’ve been dating for a really long time and I know you love me,” he starts, encouraged when she nods, a smile crossing her lips. “But why?” 

The smile vanishes from her face, replaced by a confused expression. “What?” 

“You’ve—well I know you love everything about me, but—but why? Why do you love me?”

She smiles. “Oh, Ben.” Devi slides her hand up and cups his face, looking at him with all the tenderness and softness in the world. It always makes his heart beat faster when she looks at him like they, like she could look him in the eyes for the rest of eternity and it still wouldn’t be enough for her, like she finds some sort of peace in his eyes. 

(whenever she looks at him like this, like she loves him—and he knows she loves him, knows she does, but he’ll never get enough of her telling him—it is the greatest moment in the world. because she loves him and she is not afraid to show him, not anymore, and loving her is the best decision he has ever made)

She leans forward, and her nose brushes his, but she keeps her eyes open, and it’s one of the most intimate moments they’ve ever had. “Do you want to know the biggest reason I love you?” she whispers, and he nods. 

“I love you because you have the biggest heart in the world, Ben. You don’t let many people see it, but you’re one of the kindest people I know.” Her hands shake on his cheeks, but her voice is steady. “I love you so much. Your heart is beautiful, and I’m so thankful you gave it to me.” 

He kisses her then, crashing their lips together, and she kisses him back fiercely, pulling him closer. 

“God,” he breathes, as he pulls away, “I love you.” He lets his forehead rest against hers, fingers digging into her hips. “I love you so much, babe.” 

Moments like these, where he can’t tell where she ends and he begins, are his favorite. 

“I love you too, Ben. Now, come on.” She pulls away with him, taking her hand in his and tugging him along. “If you really love me, you’ll buy me cotton candy.” 

He laughs. “Even after that funnel cake, you want cotton candy?” 

Devi smiles at him, making his heart race in his chest. You would think after nineteen months of dating, he would be less enamored with her, less thrown by her beauty, but it’s only the exact opposite. She still takes his breath away, still makes his heart race in his chest. “Of course I do, Ben. We came to the fair. We  _ have _ to eat something sweet enough to rot our teeth.” 

He grins. “Well, if it’s mandated.” 

“Of course it is,” she grins back. “Glad to see you’re following the rules, Gross.” 

Ben laughs. “Well, you say it’s a rule and I trust you.” He steps over and pulls out his wallet, buying her cotton candy. 

She happily accepts it, grinning. “Thanks, Ben.” 

He laughs as he watches her pull off strands of it, popping it into her mouth. “That’s  _ so _ bad for your health, David.” 

“You’ve been upgraded from octogenarian to nonagenarian, Gross,” she murmurs. “Come on, everyone likes cotton candy. It’s literally spun sugar.” 

“Exactly,” he drawls. “It’s  _ just _ spun sugar and dye. I don’t want to  _ think _ about how bad that would be for me. Especially since I’ve already had two funnel cakes.” 

“But it tastes so good, Ben,” she says, dodging a little boy who almost crashes into her, nearly crashing into  _ him. _ “Like, sweet and a little sticky and—” 

He cuts her off by tugging on her elbow and pulling her into him, pressing his lips against hers. She stiffens against him in shock, before sighing, kissing him back. She’s right, the cotton candy  _ does _ taste amazing to him, but he thinks that’s just because he’s trying it off her lips right now. 

She melts into him the same way the cotton candy had melted on her tongue, easy and gradual, all at the same time, and she lingers against him, squeaking in shock when he sweeps his tongue into her mouth and trails his hand down her arm to her waist, tugging her against him. He lets her fall deeper into the kiss, her hand tightening on his bicep, kissing him harder, and he can feel her lashes flutter against his cheek. 

(there are few things in the world he loves more then kissing devi, but one of those things is the way she reacts when he kisses her, falling into him, into his touch. it gives him a bit more of an ego than he should probably have, but he can’t help it) 

Ben pulls back and grins, enjoying the way her cheeks flush pink as she stares at him, eyes wide, mouth slightly parted. “You taste better,” he smirks. 

“You’re—fuck,” she groans, hip-checking him. “You’re corrupting me.” 

He leans over and plucks a bit of the cotton candy off the whorl, popping it into his mouth, letting it melt on his tongue. “Happy to be of service.” 

Devi scowls and leans in, kissing  _ him _ this time, firm, sweeping her tongue across his lips, and she pulls back almost as abruptly as she initiated the kiss, pupils blown wide as she looks at him. “Good.” 

He runs his tongue over his lips. “So,” he says. “What else do you want to do?” 

She smiles. “The Ferris Wheel is the very last thing I want.” 

He checks his watch. “Well, it’s only 8:30, so we have plenty of time. But the line is going to be huge. Want to go?” 

She nods. “Sure.” 

They find the Ferris Wheel line fairly quickly, and he’s right, it’s huge, and Devi slowly but surely makes her way through her cotton candy as they move forward in line, Ben stealing the occasional piece from her. The sky darkens, and night falls, and it only makes the fair more beautiful, almost hauntingly so, neon lights and the smell of popcorn everywhere. 

“You want me to take that?” he asks, nodding to the stick when she pulls the last piece of cotton candy off of it. 

She holds it up to his mouth. “Here,” she murmurs. “Take it.” 

Instead of taking it with his hands, he leans forward and wraps his lips around her fingers, letting the cotton candy melt on his tongue. He flicks his tongue over her fingertips, grabbing the last grains of sugar resting there, and her hand shakes ever so slightly. Her breath hitches as his eyes lock with hers, and fuck, he wants to drag her into a secluded corner so bad. 

He pulls back from her, swallowing roughly. “Thank you,” he rasps, his voice hoarse and dark. 

Devi’s eyes are blown wide, wide, as she stares at his mouth. “Uh huh,” she says, faintly. “No problem.” 

He lets his eyes drag over her neck, the flush spreading down her body, shamelessly taking her in. 

(what? she’s his girlfriend and ridiculously hot, he’s allowed to take her in and admire her, isn’t he?) 

Ben grins at her, admiring how he can practically  _ hear _ her heart skip a beat. “God, you’re really hot, you know that?” he whispers, murmurs in her ear. 

She squirms as he steps closer to her, shooting him a look. “Don’t start something you can’t finish, Gross,” she murmurs. 

Ben slides his arm around her waist, casual and relaxed to anyone else, but she melts into him easy, when he pulls her against him, and she’s so hot, so warm against his skin, her stomach pressed against his palm, and he wants to keep her here and never let her go. He ducks his head, dragging his lips against her jaw gently. “Who says I can’t finish it?” he murmurs. 

“You’re insane if you think I’m leaving this line right now,” she whispers back. 

Ben flashes her his most charming grin. “I can’t convince you?”

Devi smirks. “Not with your current moves.” 

He rolls his eyes. “You wound me, David.” 

“Just trying to encourage you to improve your performance,” Devi murmurs. 

“You haven’t exactly complained these past few months.” 

They’d taken that step and started having sex at the beginning of junior year, and it was a little difficult the first few times, he’s not going to lie, to see how it had hurt her, how she’d been in a bit of pain and it had nearly put him off trying it again, until she’d brought it up. And he’d done his best to make her feel good and make her like it, but it had taken a while, taken a few tries before she’d actually felt good, but he’d made her promise not to lie to him, and he was happy she didn’t. 

And well, he’s him, so he’d done a bunch of reading and research and it was actually helpful, and he can’t deny that he felt ridiculously proud the first time she’d fallen apart because of him. Probably a little too proud of himself, she says, but he’s not sorry for it. And the same pride had welled up in him every time it had happened after, with increasing and increasing frequency.

“I was just trying to spare your feelings,” she quips, eyes dancing with mirth. 

He barely suppresses the urge to roll his eyes, shaking his head at her. “I know I’m good, David. That’s cause of you.” 

He leans forward and kisses her nose, biting back a grin when her nose wrinkles up. “I regret everything,” she deadpans. 

He opens his mouth to say something in response, but then the couple ahead of them vanishes and they’re up at the Ferris Wheel. Ben hands the attendant the tickets, and they clamber into one of the carts. “I’m not exactly sure this is the safest idea,” he whispers to her. 

“Don’t be a buzzkill, asshole,” she whispers back, pulling the bar down across their laps. 

“Ok, but I’d like to see the safety regulations this Ferris Wheel has to pass and certification that it’s done that.” 

Devi gives him a deadpan look. “Come on, Ben, don’t you do  _ anything _ reckless?” 

“I drove you to Malibu without a license!” 

She rolls her eyes. “Yeah, like, two years ago. You haven’t done anything reckless since then? You a wimp?” She punches his arm, and he winces. 

“I mean, I asked you out. I think that that fills my quota of being reckless for a substantial amount of time,” he points out, as the Wheel starts up again. 

Devi crosses her arms, turning her nose up and away from him. “I’m insulted at the insinuation.” 

“Oh, I was making it clear,” he smirks. “You thought I was insinuating something?” 

“Jackass,” she mutters, even as she leans her head on his shoulder and he wraps his arm around her, pulling her in closer. “Can’t quit it for one night, can you?” 

“If I did, David, you’d get bored of me,” he drawls. 

“You know what I hate about that?” she murmurs. “That you’re right.” 

Ben laughs, prompting her to laugh as well. He turns to face her, catching a glimpse of her smile. 

(devi’s smile is the kind that can cure cancers and stop wars. it’s world-ending in its beauty, but more than that, it’s the kind of smile that he thinks he could look at for the rest of his life. it’s the kind of smile he finds peace in) 

Or maybe that’s just because it’s Devi’s smile, and he finds peace in everything about her. 

And because of her smile, because he loves her, he can’t resist, can’t stop himself from leaning forward and pressing her lips against his, even if for just a split second. She can’t even kiss him back, it’s so quick, but it still sends a spark of pleasure zipping down his spine. 

She presses her lips together, perhaps to keep the feeling of the kiss from escaping, and shakes her head, giggling. “You’re ridiculous.” 

He raises his eyebrow. “Huh?” 

Devi laughs, waving her hand. “Forget it, Gross.” She sighs, glancing down at the fairground as they slowly rise in the sky. “You know, whenever I’m on a Ferris Wheel, I think of that scene from  _ The Notebook.” _ At his confused look, she elaborates. “You know, the one where Ryan Gosling’s character dangles from the Ferris Wheel to get Rachel McAdams’s character to go out with him?” 

Ben shoots her a horrified look. “What the  _ fuck? _ He does not seriously do that, does he?” 

She nods. “Oh, yes. I’ve seen it like, thirty times whenever I’m over at Eleanor’s.” 

“He literally threatens to kill himself to get him to go out with her?” he says, shocked. 

“Yup.” 

“How is that a healthy relationship in any way?” 

“It’s not, but it’s not the first time a period drama about two boring straight white people torn apart by largely fabricated struggles has been mildly successful because the white people acting in it subscribe to European beauty standards and appeal to the largely white Christian heterosexual female audience those movies are watched by.” 

Ben blinks at her. And then again. “It’s definitely not a healthy relationship.” 

Devi bursts out laughing. “No, no, it’s not. You wouldn’t do that for me, Ben, would you?” 

He snorts. “What, threaten to cripple myself if you didn’t go out with me?” She nods. “Absolutely not. I love you, Devi, but that’s just pure idiocy. You’d kill  _ me _ if I pulled a stunt like that.” 

She grins, leaning forward and kissing him. “You do know me.” 

“I like to think I do, after, you know, a year and a half.” 

The Ferris Wheel then comes to a halt, and the attendant motions for them to get off. “Wait, fuck,” Ben breathes. “I had a plan,” he mutters. 

Devi shoots him a confused look. “What?” 

He waves his hand. “Just—wait a second,” he says, clambering out of the cart and over to the attendant, pulling him to the side. 

“Uh, look, dude,” he says. “I need another round on the Ferris Wheel.” 

The attendant blinks at him, bored, brown eyes half dazed, and Ben’s approximately 97% sure he’s stoned. He’s been friends with Trent long enough to know exactly how to approach this situation.

“Ok,” he breathes, pulling out his wallet and extracting a five. “Here. Another round?” 

The stoner just stares at him, eyes flicking from the bill in Ben’s hand to his eyes once more. Ben sighs, pulling a fifty out from his wallet. “Two more,” he says, pressing the bill into the dude’s hand. 

The guy’s face just spreads into a wide smile. “Nice, dude.” 

Ben groans, rubbing his head and walking back to the cart, pulling the bar back down. “Aren’t we done?” Devi asks. 

He shakes his head. “Nah,” he smirks, flashing her a charming grin. “I schmoozed them into letting us go for another round. Figured we could take our date picture here.” 

She stares at him, clearly not convinced. “You schmoozed them? You? Ben, you’re a dick. You don’t have one charming bone in your body.” 

“I don’t know about that,” he says, as the Ferris Wheel starts up again. “I charmed you, right?” 

She scowls at him. “You most certainly did not charm me. I’m just the dumbass who fell in love with your asshole nature. What did you do to get this guy to take us on another round?” 

“Another two rounds, actually,” he corrects, “and I just bribed him.” 

She snorts. “You suck at bribing people. What did you do, give him a one?” 

“I’m not a cheapskate, Devi.” 

“Excuse me, do you  _ remember _ Model UN in sophomore year? You suck at bribing people. You gave that guy a  _ one. _ You’re rich, Ben!” 

He glances out over at the fairgrounds, looking down from the Wheel. “It was a five,” he mutters. “And then he jumped me for a fifty.” 

She throws her head back and laughs, bright and clear. “Oh my god, why are you so  _ cheap?” _

“I just paid that guy fifty dollars to take you on the Wheel again and you’re calling me cheap?” 

“You are,” she snorts, kissing his cheek as he scowls at her. “Trying to bribe this guy with five bucks to take this on another round because you wanted the perfect picture for us. Why didn’t you pay a little more? It’s not like you’re struggling for money.” 

“He wasn’t worth more than that,” he says stubbornly, crossing his arms. 

“You regularly spoil me,” she snorts. “Excessively so, might I add.”

“Well, yeah,” he says, turning to her as they reach the top of the Wheel. “You’re worth it.” 

She blushes bright pink, spilling down her neck and shoulders, a lovely, shy smile crossing her face, and it makes his heart stop beating in his chest. “Ben,” she murmurs. “You’re such a dork.” 

“Hmm,” he hums. “I’m ok with that designation.” 

With that, he leans over and kisses her, hand sliding into her hair to pull her closer, and she presses her hand against his chest, other one cupping the nape of his neck to tilt his head up so she can kiss him harder. Sugary sweet, and almost painfully beautiful, and he can feel his heart hammering away against his ribcage as she kisses him, faster than a locomotive. 

(around devi, everything in the world makes sense. looking into her eyes and kissing her is unlike any other kind of place he has known. when he kisses her, the world freezes around them, reaching absolute zero so that even time slows down. when he kisses her, he thinks he is falling into a black hole, time stretching out and slowing down. she warps time all on her own, speeding it up and slowing it down all the same) 

She murmurs against his mouth, and he breaks away to press kisses along the length of her neck, enjoying the brief moment of privacy they get at the top of the wheel. “What was that?” he whispers, sucking on the curve of her jaw. 

“Nothing,” Devi murmurs back. She nudges her nose against his cheek, and cups his jaw, tugging her mouth down to his again. 

Ben kisses her harder now, pulling a whimper out of her, his fingers digging into her hair. He can never really stop kissing her. After that first initial burst of energy, the reaction of their lips pressed against each other’s proceeds to completion without an effort whatsoever. Kissing her is natural and so, so easy for him to do. 

Before most natural disasters, there are warning signs; before an earthquake, animals migrate; before a tsunami, the tide recedes; before a volcanic eruption, the ground shakes; and before a tornado, the sky turns green. All of these are dark, dark omens. But there are legends of a good day as well; the sunset will be red the day before, dew drops on the ground at sunrise, fluffy white clouds and soaring birds. 

She gives him signs of the natural disaster she is about to wreak on his systems, the way her thumb scores over his cheek and the sigh she breathes into his mouth, the way her body curves towards him and the sound of his name, slipping from between her lips. He embraces the impending destruction. 

Devi slides her arm over his neck and pulls him closer, kissing him hard, and when her body presses against his he feels like lava melting into the ocean, hot liquid turning into steam, releasing itself in the wind. Devi is the volcano to his ocean, opposite elements that crash in a magnificent collision. 

His lungs are burning, and he needs to breathe, but he doesn’t want to stop kissing her, so he trails kissing from the corner of her mouth down the line of her neck, sucking his breath in. “I love you,” he whispers. 

“What was that?”

Ben pulls back, his fingers still digging into her hair. He lets his eyes drift over her face, taking every inch of her in. The lights of the fairground play over her face, neon pink and green dancing over the curve of her nose, the dip of her mouth. Devi reminds him of something almost otherworldly, something ethereal and magical. Red light scores over her cheek, crossing her lips, and with the glow on her face, her lips slightly swollen, he has never loved anything more. 

“I love you,” he breathes. Watches as the words settle into her eyes, sees them melt into her soul. She loves hearing it, and he loves telling her. “I love you so much.” 

Devi reaches her hand up and brushes her fingers over his mouth, then his eyes, then finally comes to rest against his cheek. “I love you, Ben.” 

He leans down and presses a kiss against his cheek. “I don’t tell you that enough.” 

“Ben,” she laughs. “You tell me every day. I know you love me.” 

“Good,” he whispers. “Cause I don’t think I can stop.” 

“I don’t want you to.” Devi runs her hand through his hair, soothing and gentle. “I can’t stop loving you either.” 

He drops another soft, light kiss on her lips, feeling the span of her soft, soft skin under his thumb. “I know.” 

Devi sighs, settling back into her seat and resting her head on his shoulder. She tilts her head up slightly, brushing her lips against his jaw, somehow casual and purposeful all at the same time. “Can’t believe I’m cuffed to you.” 

Ben laughs, pulling her closer to him. “Sorry. Want the key to undo the lock?” 

“No. We both know I threw that away a long time ago.” 

He shifts, pulling his phone out of his pocket as they sit, enjoying the Ferris Wheel, taking them up one more time. “Want to take our photo?” 

She smiles. “Yeah, give me the phone.” 

He hands her it, and she fiddles with it, turning the camera on. “Ok,” she says, holding it up as the Wheel takes them to the top. “You ready?” 

Ben grins. “How are we going to do it this time?” 

She grins back. “How about you kiss me?” 

“Works for me,” he murmurs, leaning in and pressing his lips to hers. She laughs, kissing him back. “Who’s the dork now?” he murmurs, pulling away. 

Devi shakes her head. “This is your fault, you know. You’ve turned me into a sap.” 

He moves the photo into his special folder for photos on their dates. “Good. This is a great photo, by the way. I look amazing.” 

She rolls her eyes. “Yeah, you’re the hot one in this relationship.” 

“Damn straight,” he grins. “You’re pretty hot too, though. We’re an attractive duo.” 

“Fuck yeah.” Devi grins at him. “Now, put the phone away and kiss your girlfriend.” 

He tucks it into his pocket, shaking his head. “I don’t like being told what to do, you know that. But I think I’ll make an exception just this one time.” 

“I’m sure you will,” she breathes, just before he kisses her again, neon lights flashing over them. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> your comments and kudos make me happier than fabiola and eve dating! come talk to me about the show! you can find me on tumblr: @[parkersedith](https://parkersedith.tumblr.com)


	4. date two-hundred-and-thirty-eight (five years, four months, and eleven days)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _“You’re just saying that because you think it’ll get me to kiss you.”_
> 
> _“That’s only 67% of it.”_
> 
> _“That’s a specific number. Did you test that?”_
> 
> _“Oh yeah. Had a fairly large sample size too, with 500.”_
> 
> _“Margin of error must have been small, then.”_
> 
> _“Eh, half a percent here and there.”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is the most self-indulgent thing i've ever written ✌️✌️✌️
> 
> hey guys sorry for the lack of an update last week but i am dying!!! uni is a lot of work and who knew i wouldn't even be able to find time to edit let alone write! can you tell i am losing my mind? hahahahahaha
> 
> anyways this is "the one with the sex" for all of you horny people so i hope you enjoy tbh i wrote it so long ago it was like. a shock going back and editing it cause i legit forgot everything i wrote so i hope you don't hate it
> 
> unless you spent exactly 199 minutes watching orgo lectures this week this isn't for you bye dwight you ignorant slut 
> 
> i also edited it after doing like 6 hours of homework and i am about to go do more homework so if there are mistakes i really don't care thx
> 
> also leila i hope you like this you definitely deserve it you go girl ❤️❤️

Junior year at Princeton is brutal. 

Devi’s really smart—she _was_ valedictorian of her high school class, a fact she never stops delighting in reminding Ben of—but even she’s feeling the effects of the workload now. Studying to become a doctor is _exhausting._ The pre-med program she’s in is extremely tiring, and she’s trying to stay on top of all her classes and have something resembling a social life at the same time, and not lose all of the sleep in the world. 

She can have two of those three things, which is why she is now struggling to keep her eyes open in her Modern Microbiology class. She’s a biology major and sometimes, she has no idea why, until she reminds herself that she wants to be a doctor. 

At least, that’s what Ben says whenever she complains to him. 

She misses him, so much it hurts sometimes. He’s only two hours away at Yale, but it feels like a million miles away, for how it feels whenever she’s away from him. 

Devi flips her pen around her hands, over and over again, pulling her phone out surreptitiously and glancing at it, flicking through it to find her messages with him. They text nearly constantly, and it soothes her heart and hurts it at the same time. She misses him more than almost anything else in the world. 

(she loves him and having him apart from her doesn’t hurt any less, even if being apart from him had sadly become the norm. hearing his voice through phone calls and seeing him back home is all she gets of him now, and it’s starting to really get to her) 

No matter how much she loves Ben—which is a lot—she doesn’t love him as much as she misses him, a gaping, empty hole in her soul she can’t fill.

Class dismisses, but she leans back in her chair, running her hands over her face. She glances down at her phone, contemplating calling him. It’s not their usual scheduled day for a call, but her roommates are already gone, one visiting her family, the other visiting her girlfriend, and Devi misses Ben a little more viscerally than normal. 

Giving in to the temptation, she picks up her phone and dials his number. It’s Friday and Modern Microbiology is her last class of the day, so there’s nothing else she has to do. It’s only 11:30 anyways. 

Devi wraps her arm around herself as she slumps down in her seat, putting her phone to her ear. 

He picks up almost instantly. “Devi, hey? Is something wrong? You’re calling earlier than usual, babe.” 

She smiles despite herself, biting her lip. “Everything’s good. I just wanted to talk to you.” 

“Aww, you missed me?” he laughs, and she grins stupidly to herself, ducking her head so her hair hangs over her face, covering the blush that rises to her cheeks just at the sound of his laugh. “David, I didn’t think you cared.” 

“I’m literally in love with you and you still think I don’t care?” she points out, crossing one leg over the other. “Gross, I’m starting to think you don’t listen to anything I say.” 

“Eh, if it’s not about how hot I am, I tend to just tune you out.” She can hear his smile bleeding through his voice, and god, she misses it. 

(she wants—craves to press her fingers against his smile, to trace the dimples on his face until it’s burned into her fingers, her muscles, the memory of his face seared into her mind. she’s terrified that she’ll forget the color of his eyes being away from him for so long. her hands miss holding him. she doesn’t want to forget any part of him) 

“I never tell you how hot you are,” she smirks. “Are you saying you just tune me out all the time?” 

“Glad you’re finally picked up on how this works, David,” he smirks. “So, how is Princeton?” 

She groans. “Ben, I’m tired. I just don’t care about studying right now.” 

“Babe, you’re brilliant. Since when have you ever needed to study?” 

“That’s a real different tune from the one you were singing senior year,” she snorts. “What’s up with you calling me smart and being nice to me?” Devi laughs. She starts gathering her stuff up, slowly, standing up out of her chair and pressing the phone between her shoulder and ear. 

“Well, I’m not competing with you right now, am I? So, I can tell you all about how smart you are.” 

She slings her bag over her shoulder and tosses her hair up, twisting it into a messy bun. “I like that,” she smirks. “Keep going. Tell me everything you like about me.” 

“You’re insanely brilliant,” he says, quietly. “I think you’re the smartest person I know—besides me. And you’re really gorgeous.” 

“You’re really nice to me all of a sudden,” she laughs. “Why?” 

“I just really miss you right now.” 

Devi swallows roughly, emotion clogging her throat up. “Really?”

(sometimes she—she still worries that she doesn’t tell ben enough that she loves him, and the insecurities she has about her emotions come roaring back. she loves him _so much,_ loves him beyond reason and comprehension, past the point of sanity, but thing is she’s always a little scared to tell him sometimes. ben loves wholly, completely, almost consumingly, and being on the receiving end of such affection is a little scary sometimes, especially when she’s scared she doesn’t love him back as much as he deserves) 

“Yeah, Devi. God, you know how much I love you, right?” 

Devi clears her throat, feeling tears prick at her eyes, throat a bit choked. “Yeah, I do.” 

“I love you,” he says. “A lot.” 

Devi leans against the lobby of the academic building, just before she walks out of the door. “It’s just hard being apart,” she confesses. “Like, I don’t know why it’s so hard. I thought I would be used to this by now.” 

“Is it bad to say I’m kind of happy you’re not used to it?” 

She laughs through tears. “Why?” 

“Cause I like knowing you love me,” Ben answers. “I don’t know, maybe if it gets easier you’ll stop loving me, or something.” His voice is dry and bitter, and it breaks her heart that she can’t comfort him in person right now. 

“Ben,” she murmurs, quietly, “I could never stop loving you.”

He sighs into the phone. “I love you, babe.” 

She feels all of the tension melt from her shoulders, pushing herself off the wall and heading towards the glass doors, ducking her head down to rummage in her bag for the keys to her apartment. “I love you too, Ben. Wish you were here. Kind of miss your dumb face. You’ve pulled some Pavlovian bullshit on me.” 

(pavlovian bullshit that makes her ache for him, that makes her wish he were kissing her and stealing the breath right out of her lungs. ben is a constant in her life, something steady and always there, but when he’s not there, it makes it a bit more difficult to breathe. she can function fine without him, of course she can, but he makes everything a little easier. and he’s a constant that she has to live without right now, and it’s physically painful to do so)

“Hmm, I know, Devi. It’s my speciality, wearing people down until they love me. You’re one of them,” he laughs.

She stops on top of the steps, swearing softly into the phone as she struggles to find her keys. “Yeah, you did a pretty good job of that when we were in high school.” 

“You look exhausted, David. You need to take a break.” 

Devi frowns, brushing her hair back from her ear and continuing to search her purse. “What the hell are you talking about?” 

“Look up.” 

Devi does. 

“Hey,” he says, grinning. 

“You motherfucker,” she breathes, staring at him.

Because Ben’s standing across the quad, phone pressed to his ear, smirking at her. He looks almost exactly the same, just his hair slightly longer, and this might just be wishful thinking, but she _swears_ his eyes are bluer than normal. 

“Is that all you have to say, David? I was hoping for a little more enthusiastic welcome.” 

Devi gapes at him, and then his smirk softens into a bright, genuine smile, and it snaps her into motion. She ends the call, shoving her phone into her purse, hands shaking, and she swears she cannot breathe but not because she misses him, but because he always takes her breath away. 

She swallows roughly, walking towards him, and she doesn’t run, she doesn’t, except then she’s speedwalking once she hits the halfway mark and then she’s running, and then she launches herself into his arms. 

He catches her effortlessly, and she wraps her arms around his neck, legs around his waist, and buries her face into his skin, breathing him in. “Oh my god,” she chokes out. “Hi.” 

Ben’s arms wrap around her, holding her tight to him. “Hi back,” he whispers. 

(sandalwood for the first time in months from him, instead of his hoodie, instead of his clothes, and she’s going to fucking cry, because she missed him so much, it wells up in her body like the tide wells up against the sea, strong and powerful and not quite with the force of a tsunami, but with plenty of kinetic energy all the same) 

Devi cups the back of his head, fingers stroking his scalp through his hair, and he scatters kisses across her hair, cradling her close. She’s not going to let him go. She’s never going to let him go again. 

She grips him tighter, closing her eyes and focusing on the beat of his heart against her own. Being with Ben is something she is so used to, her body’s equilibrium is having him around. Without him, her systems crash, go haywire. Everything is thrown into chaos without his hand in hers, but right now, for the first time in months, it feels like she’s reached homeostatic equilibrium again, everything going back to baseline. 

Being with Ben is her baseline. 

The loss of him, for these past few months, has been like the tides, ebbing and flowing in her soul, but always there, a constant she can’t stop. But right now, having him here, in her arms, the smell of him surrounding her, his arms gripping her tight (so very, very tight) his lips pressed into her hair, hands cradling her like she is something precious, something unique, the emotion wells up in her like a tsunami, almost destructive in its potential, leaving her ravaged in its wake.

“God,” she sobs, into his neck. “You’re here.” 

“Yeah,” he murmurs, “I’m here. I’m here, Devi.” 

Neither of them are ones to lose it in the middle of the quad and she’s definitely not the type to climb her boyfriend like a tree where anyone can see them, but she has missed him for too long to give even half of a fuck about that. She loves him and fuck, he’s finally here. She can finally breathe him in, can finally find peace in the sound of his heart against hers. 

(these past few months she feels like she has suffered from takotsubo cardiomyopathy, brought on by separation anxiety, and now her heart beats a little easier, in tandem with his) 

Devi somehow manages to extricate herself from his neck, and he reluctantly sets her down on the ground, although he keeps his arms around her waist, refusing to let her go. 

She cups his jaw, looking into his eyes for what feels like the first time in months. 

They Facetime regularly and yet, it’s something else entirely looking into his eyes, like really, truly, looking into them, feeling like her soul clicks into place, settles and is at home. And she’s happy to see she hasn’t forgotten the color of his eyes, how blue they are. Impossibly blue, the color of the sky. “Hi,” she whispers, again. 

It’s almost magical, what she feels for him, almost like alchemy. 

Alchemy is an ancient science, steeped in wishful thinking as much as tea leaves are steeped in water. As someone who loves chemistry, Devi scoffs at the notion of turning metal into gold. It's not possible, and it's not happening. And yet—she thinks—for a moment, whenever she looks into Ben's eyes, she understands what the alchemists were talking about when they were trying to turn one metal into another, undergoing an intense chemical reaction that changed things down on an atomic level—because that is exactly the kind of reaction she has when she looks into Ben's eyes. He makes her change, on an atomic level, makes her feel.

Ben grins, eyes dancing and bright. His thumb presses against her skin as he cups her jaw. His eyes are as bright as the sun, wholly consuming and overwhelming. Looking into his eyes, Devi feels all of her pretenses stripe away. When she looks into Ben’s eyes, she sees herself in them: the affection, joy, and admiration he holds for her apparent. Looking into his eyes is like looking into the sun: washing away all of her defenses and leaving her bare, as she is. 

(here is how ben loves her: without reservations. the way he loves her is unbothered and whole and beautiful. he loves her in the same way a forest fire loves kindling: with an almost consuming, vicious ferocity. ben loves devi the way you love nothing else but another person, with your whole heart, with passion and attachment and adoration) 

And she loves him back in the exact same way. 

“Hey,” he murmurs. “Happy to see me?” 

Instead of answering him, Devi just curls her hand into his shirt and yanks him to her, unwilling to let herself go any longer without kissing him. 

She slams her lips against his, and the emotion slams into her the same way. Ben’s hands shoot to her waist, where they have not been for _months,_ and she sighs, melting into him as he pulls her impossibly closer. His fingers dig into the small of her back delightfully firmly, and Devi’s reminded once again why she doesn’t ever even _think_ about glancing at another guy while she’s here. 

Because no one kisses her or loves her like he does. 

Devi parts her lips under his mouth, letting him touch his tongue to hers, and he tastes like spearmint gum, like always. She hated the taste of spearmint gum before she left for Princeton, but once she was there, she started chewing it a lot more often, because she missed him so much and in a strange way, it reminded her of him. It makes her heart flip in her chest, the taste of spearmint on his tongue. 

Ben pulls away, dragging his lips across her cheek, scattering kisses there, all over her face. “I’ll take that as my answer,” he murmurs.

“I love you,” she says, instead, keeping her eyes closed as he continues to press kisses on her face. 

“You know, it’s really nice to actually see you say that,” he says, pulling back from her fully. 

Devi opens her eyes and drinks him in, the slight stubble dusted across his jaw, the bright, aquamarine shine in his eyes, the smile spreading across his lips. “You’re a sap,” she laughs. “What the fuck are you doing here?” 

Ben slides his hand up to press between her shoulder blades, and she loops her arms around his neck, relishing in the feel of him pressing against her. “What, a guy can’t miss his girlfriend?” 

She feels her face flush, warmth flooding her cheeks. “Yeah, but like, you came _here.”_

Ben shrugs, fingers playing with the curls of hair escaping her bun at the nape of her neck. “Yeah, well, I have my own car and it’s only a two hour and a half drive. You know my last class on Fridays is only until 9, so I just thought I would surprise you.” 

She leans in and kisses him sweetly, gently, lingering against his mouth. “Thank you.” 

“Yeah, well, I love you. Plus it had been too long, and I missed you.” 

Her heart flutters in her chest, trying to breathe. “Yeah, I know how that feels,” she murmurs. 

“So, I’m here for as long as you’ll have me,” he smirks, his eyes sparkling. “What do you want to do?” 

(she knows ben isn’t here for as long as she’ll have him, because she wants him here with her forever, and by sunday night he has to head back to yale, and the thought makes her heart hurt, but that’s the future, and he’s here right now, and she’s not going to waste a single second she has with him. she’s missed him for too long, and now she can finally be with him)

Devi grins. “First, I want to get some lunch. I’ll take you to my favorite place, come on.” 

Ben laces his hand through hers and lets her pull him along. “This isn’t like, a fast food place, is it?” 

“Need I remind you once more, you got me _cheeseburgers_ on our first date.” 

“Might I remind _you,_ that was because you refused to eat liver.” 

“That was because you let me order the liver without telling me what it was!” she laughs, checking her shoulder against his playfully. 

Ben rolls his eyes fondly. “Look, Devi, I love you, but you have to admit, you have the eating habits of a five-year-old.” 

“I take offense to that,” she sniffs, turning her nose up. 

“Sorry, babe,” he laughs, raising their joined hands up to press a kiss to her knuckles, and she’s still looking away from him, but feels her lips turn up in a smile at that. “It’s more of an eight-year-old’s diet.” 

Devi giggles at that, glancing at him from the corner of her eye. He’s smiling at her softly, the special smile that makes her heart flip in her chest no matter how many times she sees it. 

(even after over five years together, ben can still make her heart race like no one else can, and it is something she has still not gotten used to. it is something she loves) 

“Ok, fair enough,” she concedes. 

He grins at her, blue eyes sparkling with so much emotion in them, it unlocks all the emotion she has kept tucked away so carefully these past few months, and god, she has missed him. 

“I love you,” she whispers, pressing a kiss to his cheek, scored with stubble. 

“I know,” he whispers back, squeezing her hand as they arrive at her favorite place. 

“Come on,” she says. “Let’s get something to eat.” 

Ben raises his eyebrows when they walk in. “I must admit, David, I am pleasantly surprised.” 

She snorts. “Not even you are snobbish enough to turn your nose up at mac and cheese.” 

“Mac and cheese is one of the greatest foods in the world,” he says, smirking. 

“Finally,” Devi sighs, as the hostess leads them to a small booth. “You learned _something_ from dating me. Only took you five years, but who can blame you when you only possess two brain cells?” 

“I literally drove over two hours to surprise you here, and you’re just so mean to me. I can’t believe you,” he whines, sliding in next to her. Ben pouts at her, and she rolls her eyes, smacking him on the head with a menu. 

“Get over it, Gross. You knew what you were signing up for when you asked me out.” 

“Yeah,” he grumbles, batting away the menu when she tries to smack him with it again. “A future with my intelligence constantly being insulted and my body constantly being battered. Happiness.” 

She smiles brightly. “Fuck yeah.” 

The waitress appears at their table, and Ben lets her order for him—no tomatoes, of course—before she vanishes again, and they’re left alone. Devi reaches up and fiddles with her hair, grumbling in frustration as she wrangles with it. 

“Stop that,” Ben says, reaching up and pulling her hands away. 

“My hair's a mess,” she sighs, slumping back in her seat. “Obviously, I look like a mess. I didn’t know you were coming.” 

“You know, you always look irritatingly good,” he says, rolling his eyes.

“I do not,” Devi groans, burying her face in her hands. “I look like a disaster.” 

He presses a kiss to her hair. “A beautiful disaster.” 

“You’re just saying that because you think it’ll get me to kiss you.” 

“That’s only 67% of it.” 

“That’s a specific number. Did you test that?” 

“Oh yeah. Had a fairly large sample size too, with 500.” 

“Margin of error must have been small, then.” 

“Eh, half a percent here and there.” 

Devi lifts her face out of her hands and smiles at him, rolling her eyes in fondness. Only Ben can banter with her like this, trade snappy back and forths without crossing the line, and it makes her feel alive. 

(she’s not necessarily felt dead while at college, but she has felt weighed down, has felt the stress of her studies on her shoulders like a physical thing, like the universe has bent at the edges and folded on top of her, like the shine of starlight has solidified and rested on her. it’s starting to get annoying, really, and the only moments she thinks she feels a bit better is with her friends. but nothing can really replace eleanor and fabiola and ben. they know her better than most people, she thinks, know parts of her that she does not even know) 

And being back with Ben again is like breathing new life into her lungs, sparking a combustion reaction in her body, a multi-step cascading reaction. 

She rests her head on his shoulder. “I missed you.” 

“I missed you too, babe. So, is there anything else you want to do today?” 

She bites her lip, thinking about it. “Uh, there _is_ a mini golf place I’ve always wanted to try out.” 

“Mini golf?” 

“It’s not very similar to real golf, Gross,” she snorts, “so I highly doubt your country club membership will help much.” 

Ben sighs, shaking his head. “I didn’t expect it to.” 

“Still can’t believe you have a fucking country club membership,” she mutters. 

“Yes, David, because that’s the worst thing a person can have, a country club membership.” 

She scowls at him. “Am I wrong?” 

Ben laughs, reaching out and squeezing her hand. “You are a bit extreme.” 

Their food arrives then, and they fall silent, eating, and Ben futilely tries to fight her off, but not very hard, when she steals a few bites of his food. 

“You know,” he says. “I don’t understand why you order your own food when you just steal from my plate more often than not.” 

“Cause I’m your girlfriend and that’s in the job description.” 

“Really?” Ben says, dry. “Please show me where, thank you very much.” 

“Article 8, section B,” she banters back, spearing some of his pasta on her fork. “It’s not my fault you didn’t read the terms and conditions of the contract before you signed it.” 

Ben smiles. “Oops.” 

“You regret it?” she snorts. 

“Not yet.” He presses his lips to the crown of her head. “Now, eat your food. We can go mini-golfing.” 

Devi smacks his arm, but they finish their lunch and step out into the cool March air. “Is this mini-golf place indoors?” he says, shivering. 

“Yeah, thank god,” she murmurs. Devi leans over and presses her lips against his cheek, wrapping her arm around his. “You’re the best, you know?” 

He shoves his hands into his pockets and grins at her, slightly confused. “What?” 

“You are the best and the worst, at the same time,” she says, snorting. 

“Uh, I’m going to admit, David, usually I can follow your crazy train of thought marginally, but even I’m a bit lost here.” 

“You’re like—” she grapples for the right words, flailing her arm around. “Like, like that line from _A Tale of Two Cities._ It was the best of times, it was the worst of times?” 

“That’s an objectively terrible book, and I’m still not sure where you’re going with this.” 

She groans, irritated she’s not effectively communicating her words. “Ok, ok, I guess it’s like—you’re a thunderstorm, you know?” 

“What?” 

Devi shrugs, running her hand down his arm. “You’re like, a storm, you know. You want to spend more time in it, even if it scares you a little.” 

Ben jerks in shock. “I scare you?” 

“No, no, no,” she reassures him. “No, not like that at all. I love you,” she says, watching the tension ease out of his shoulders. “You don’t scare me like that.” She shrugs. “It’s just that—being with you is a little scary, because you make me feel a lot. I really love you. It’s the kind of fear you feel when you’re in the middle of a thunderstorm. Like the good kind, the kind that excites you.” 

Ben tugs on her hand and pulls her into him, crashing his lips against hers. She blinks at him in shock before letting her eyes flutter shut as she curves into him. She raises her hand and cards it through his hair, sighing at how soft it is. Ben’s hand sweeps up her back, fingers cupping the nape of her neck gently.

She’s never been struck by lightning, but Ben is a thunderstorm she never wants to leave, and she thinks kissing him is exactly what it feels like when lightning strikes you. 

Devi pulls away then, panting slightly. “What—what was that for?” 

He smiles, running his thumb over her lip. “You’re my thunderstorm too, you know.” 

“Oh,” she breathes, lashes fluttering as he runs his thumb over her lip over and over again. “Really?” 

“Yeah,” Ben nods. “Really.” 

She grins, stupid and sappy and her face feels weirdly hot, but she’s used to feeling like this around Ben. “You’re such a sap.” 

Ben rolls his eyes, turning away from him and slinging his arm around her shoulders. “You said it first, you dork.” 

“You’re the dork.” 

“That’s you.” 

“Nope, all you,” she smirks. 

“Devi!” 

Devi turns her head to see her friend, Nisha, waving at her. Nisha and her had been project partners in one of her science classes last year and had bonded quickly, becoming close friends. Unlike Devi, Nisha wasn’t a lightweight either, so drinking with her was always fun. 

“Hey, Nisha,” Devi greets. 

Nisha flashes her a grin, her nose ring winking in the light. “Good to see you. Who’s this?” she says, eyes scanning over Ben quickly. 

“Nisha, this is Ben. My boyfriend.” 

“Oh,” Nisha says, clearly a little shocked. _“This_ is the elusive Ben?” 

Ben smirks at Devi. “You’ve been talking about me. Good things, I hope.” 

“Nah, it’s mostly just her bitching about you to all of us when we drink,” Nisha quips, grinning brightly. 

Devi laughs. “Yeah.” 

“Wait, really?” Ben says. 

“Nah.” Nisha turns to Devi, raising an eyebrow. “In fact, the only reason any of us really know you exist is because she mentions you like, super occasionally. Honestly, part of me thought she was making you up.” 

“Oh, that I can believe,” he says. “After all, I _am_ insanely perfect, and this one doesn’t really know what to do with that. Like, honestly, I totally understand why it’s hard to believe a guy like me exists.” 

“I can think of some things I want to do to you right now,” Devi growls, irritated. 

Ben just waggles his eyebrows at her. “Kinky.” 

She groans. “Must you be such a jackass all the time?” 

“Yeah, actually, it’s a part of the whole package. I mean, come on. When you look like this, you gotta make sure people know.” 

Devi groans. “Oh my god, I hate you.” 

“Love you too, babe.” 

She turns back to Nisha. “I’d like to formally apologize for him. He’s incredibly annoying.” 

“Sorry you’re friends with this one,” Ben cuts in. 

Nisha just raises her eyebrows, a playful smile curling at her lips, and she opens her mouth to say something when Ben’s phone starts ringing. He pulls it out of his pocket, glancing at the screen. “I gotta take this, babe.” He presses a kiss to her cheek before putting the phone to his ear and walking away, giving Devi the chance to turn back to Nisha. 

Devi rolls her eyes again. “Seriously, I am sorry for him. I wish I could say he’s not like that all the time but that would just be a fucking lie, so.” 

Nisha just shakes her head. “No, you guys are like, super cute, so.” 

Devi snorts. “Did you just see that?” 

“Yeah, and it was crazy cute. You clearly love him.” 

“Yeah well,” she says, wryly. “He wore me down in high school, what can I say?” 

Nisha laughs, stepping to the side and placing her hand on Devi’s arm. “Whatever you need to tell yourself, Devi.” She shoots her a wink. “I gotta go, but I’ll see you later. Have fun!” 

Devi waves goodbye to her friend, and a few minutes later, Ben appears again, tucking his phone into his pocket. “Hey,” he says. “Sorry about that, it was my roommate.” 

She waves her hand. “No, it’s fine, obviously. You ready to go?” 

“Get ready to get your ass kicked at mini-golf,” he smirks. 

“We’ll see,” Devi smirks back. 

* * *

“Fuck,” Devi groans, as her shot goes wide. 

“Told you you’d get your ass kicked,” Ben smirks, leaning on his club. 

“Stop that,” she huffs. “You look ridiculous.” 

“I’m just letting you know you’re going to fail. You’re no match for my superior skills.” 

“Superior skills?” She tosses the club over her shoulder, nearly whacking some guy in the face. “You don’t have superior skills, just wasted time spent at the country club.” 

“Wasted time?” he says, moving to the next hole. “I don’t think so. I’m currently kicking your ass right now.” 

“You’re currently checking my ass out right now,” she says, glancing back at him to find his eyes dragging over her.

He grins, no shame at having been caught, the jackass. “I can multitask.” 

Devi smacks him. “You’re not very good at it.” 

“I dunno.” He skims his fingers up her back, grinning. “I think I’m pretty good at it.” 

Devi shoves herself away from him and goes to tee up. “Your score is barely better than mine.” 

“And you beat me out in senior year for valedictorian by two hundreths of a percentage point, David.” Ben’s blue, blue eyes lock with hers, dark and purposeful, dancing with mirth. “I think we both know it doesn’t matter by _how_ much we win, just _that_ you win.” 

Devi scowls at him. Unfortunately, he’s right, and it pisses her off. “Fine. Watch and learn, Gross.” 

Devi tees up, biting her tongue as she tries to line up her shot with the rotation of the windmill so she doesn’t have to hit it more than once. 

She takes the shot, and pumps her fist in the air in triumph when it goes into the windmill easily. “Ha! I told you,” she sing-songs, dancing back on the green. 

Ben laughs, shaking his head at her. “Thanks for the performance.” 

She winks at him. “I’ve been working on my moves just for you.” 

“Aww, thanks babe,” he snorts, dropping his golf ball on the ground and teeing it up. “I feel so special.” 

She smirks at him. “Damn right.” 

He takes the shot, and swears when it hits one of the blades of the windmill and bounces back. “Fuck,” he groans. 

Devi grins. “Read it and weep, Gross.” 

“Ok, ok,” he says, “Just—I can do this.” 

“Oh, I don’t know, can you?” She saunters over to him, leaning on her club in the same way. “I’m going to _crush_ you.” 

Ben raises an eyebrow. “Is that a promise?” He hits the golf ball again, this time hitting his mark. “Cause it looks like you’re not gonna be able to see it through.” 

“I take offense to that,” she says, crossing her arms. “You know I always keep my promises.” 

“How about we make this a little more interesting?” Ben says, cocking his head to the side. 

She raises an eyebrow, even more intrigued. Competition is inherent in everything she and Ben do, but adding stakes to it always makes her want to win even more. “I’m listening.” 

Ben grins, brushing a lock of her hair behind her ear. “Whoever has a higher score at the end of the night pays for dinner.” 

Devi grins back. “You’re on.” 

His blue eyes flash with interest, and he smiles, bright and wide. “Now it’s a real date.” 

She laughs, happy and light for what feels like the first time in months. Devi leans forward, pressing her lips against his for a split second, not even long enough for him to kiss her back. “It’s not fun unless one of us loses,” she smirks. 

Devi fights as much as she can, but Ben beats her by a hair, and doesn’t let her forget it as they put their clubs away. “Ben,” she groans, for the billionth time. “Ok, I’ll pay for dinner.” 

Ben wraps his arm around her waist and tugs her against him suddenly. “Oh, I don’t need you to pay for dinner. I just want you to admit I’m right.” 

Devi scowls at him. “In your dreams.” 

He wags his eyebrows at her. “Please, babe?” 

She slumps into him almost instantly, groaning. “That’s not fair,” she murmurs. 

Ben presses his lips to her hair. “I know, babe.” 

Devi pulls away from him and drops her club off, leaning against the wall of the mini golf place. “I swear,” she grumbles. “There’s something wrong with those clubs, you know.” 

“David, just because you lost doesn’t mean there’s something wrong with the clubs.” 

She crosses her arms again. “Ok, fine, maybe not with the clubs, but I _know_ there has to be a problem with the course. There’s no other way you could beat me. Statistically not possible.” 

Ben raises his eyebrows. “You’re ridiculous.” 

“You’re just saying that because you know I’m right.” She glances around them. “Come on, let’s check out the course.” 

“Devi!” Ben hisses. “They’re literally five minutes from closing, we can’t be here!” 

She snorts. “Don’t be a pussy, Ben.” 

“That word is inherently misogynistic,” he says. 

“Actually, it’s derived from the word ‘pusillanimous’,” she corrects, “which means showing a lack of courage.” 

“Literally no one in the world but you knows that.” 

“Ok, well, we already knew I was insanely brilliant, but thank you but proving that to me. Anyways, come on,” she says, wrapping her hand around his wrist, tugging him down the hall back to the mini golf place. “Let me show you.” 

Ben stumbles behind her as she drags him back into the mini golf ground, scanning over them critically. There’s no one else there, so she walks over to the thirteenth hole, the one she lost spectacularly at, and starts messing with it. 

“Devi,” he bites out. “This is a very, very bad idea.” 

“I’m telling you, Ben,” she insists. She tosses her hair out of her face, messing with the skull. “There’s something fucked up with this.” 

“I am _telling you,_ Devi. It’s not that odd.” 

She growls at him. “I know there’s something wrong with this.” 

“Hey!” a voice calls out. “Stop that!” 

Her head snaps up to see an attendant glaring at her. Fuck, she _likes_ this place. She doesn’t want to be banned.

“Shit,” she swears, standing up. “We gotta go.” 

“Devi, I cannot believe you,” he says, holding her as she stumbles back into him. “Now you’re gonna get us kicked out of this place. Why do dates with you always end up with us getting kicked out of places?” 

“They won’t kick us out if they can’t catch us!” she says, scrabbling for his hand, and then she’s tugging him down another hallway. 

“I hate you,” he groans, stumbling after her. They hear the attendant yell after them, and turn the corner, feet skidding against the linoleum. 

“Here, here,” Devi says, spotting an open closet door. 

“This is Model UN all over again,” Ben groans, following her into the closet. 

Of course, unlike the one in the hotel at Model UN, this one is _tiny,_ clearly just meant for like, coats, and Devi finds herself squashed up against her boyfriend as she tugs the door shut behind her, plunging them into darkness. 

She feels Ben’s breath ghost against her cheek as he sighs. “I can’t believe you.” 

“Model UN again, huh?” she smirks. “Fifteen year old you would _not_ have been able to handle all of this. I would have destroyed you.” 

Ben huffs out a dry laugh, nose brushing her ear. “Yeah, honestly, you probably would have.” 

Devi smirks, and then quiets when she hears footsteps. “Shh,” she hushes. 

Ben ducks his head down and presses a kiss to her neck, and Devi gasps. “Are you trying to get us caught?” 

“No,” he whispers, right in her ear. “Just taking advantage of having my girlfriend pressed up against me for the first time in months.” 

“Not the time, you pervert.” 

Ben sighs, his breath fluttering against the shell of her ear. “Ok,” he murmurs. “Are we just going to stay here for the rest of the night?” 

“Certainly not,” she smirks, recognizing the flash in his eyes, his mouth cocking up into a wicked smile. 

Devi grapples around for the door handle, shaking it. “Uh,” she says. 

“Uh, what?” 

“I can’t get the door open.” 

“What?” Ben hisses. 

He shifts, pushing her behind him, and jiggles the doorknob. The door doesn’t open. “Oh my god,” 

“It’s locked, isn’t it?” she groans. 

“Yup.” 

“Great.” 

“Love the situation you’ve gotten us into, David,” he smirks. 

“Excuse me?” she hisses, careful to keep her voice down. “I did _not_ get us into this situation.” 

“Who pulled us into the locked closet and closed the door?”

“I didn’t know it was locked when I closed it!” she defends. 

“You’re also the one who messed with the mini golf course,” he points out. 

Devi groans, letting her face fall onto his back. “That’s a fair point. But there’s no way you should have been able to beat me.” 

“You know, one day, your competitiveness is going to be your downfall,” he says. 

“Yes, probably.” She lifts her face off his back, running her hand down her face. “But that day has not yet come, so I don’t care.” 

“I think that day is today,” Ben says, dry.

“Shut the fuck up, Gross.” She punches him. “Aren’t you always bragging about how strong you are? Break down the door, or something.” 

“Or,” he points out. “I could just use a bobby pin.” 

Devi snorts at him. “Do you have a bobby pin?” 

“Uh, you’re the one with the long hair. Shouldn’t you have a bobby pin?” 

She rolls her eyes. “I’m a horrible woman I know, but look at me, Gross.” She jabs a finger at her head. “I have a messy bun on and I’m wearing a t-shirt and jeans. Do I _look_ like someone who would have a bobby pin?” 

“Jesus fucking Christ, Devi,” Ben mutters. He pulls his wallet out of his back pocket, getting one of the cards. “Can’t believe you.” 

“You’re telling me you know how to pick locks with a credit card?” 

Ben glances at her. “Well, I figured I’d give it a shot.” 

“That’s hot,” she smirks. 

Ben scoffs, shaking his head, but she can see a smile on his lips. “You’re—” 

“Super hot and amazing? Knew that.” 

“—insatiable.” 

“Don’t blame me, Ben,” she murmurs. “I mean, come on. You’re here.” 

She leans her head on his shoulder. “Let’s get out of his closet first, huh, babe?” he smirks, flashing her a quick smile. 

“I don’t know. Supply closet sex. Sounds like fun.” 

“Sounds kind of dangerous,” he rebuts.

“Danger is hot,” she murmurs, pressing a kiss to his jaw. 

Ben’s mouth turns up at the corners, and he grins. “Of course you’d find this hot.” The lock clicks open then, and Ben opens the door. “There we go.” 

Devi steps out of the door carefully, glancing around. “Ok, no one’s here,” she hisses. “Let’s go.” 

They dash out of the mini golf place and end up outside, and she looks over at Ben, and suddenly, she can’t stop laughing. 

“Oh my god,” she wheezes. “A fucking _supply_ closet. Of course.” 

“Of course, only with you,” he laughs, pressing his lips against her forehead. 

“Now,” she breathes. “I think I have a dinner to pay for.” 

“I think you do,” he murmurs, as she steps forward, wrapping her arms around his neck. His hands go to her hips, tugging her even closer. 

“Hmm,” she says, eyes sparkling. “What do you think I should get in return for paying for dinner?” She taps his nose, letting a small laugh slip when he wrinkles it. 

“I have a few ideas.” He slides his hands up her back, and down again, soothing and warm. “I can show you after.” 

She sighs when he leans forward and presses a kiss to her neck, eyes slipping shut. “I love you.” 

“I love you too, babe. You ready?” 

Devi breathes him in. “Yeah. Let’s get something to eat.” 

* * *

She should have known, really, that they’d end up here, making out against her bedroom wall, after they went to dinner. 

After all, she hasn’t seen him in _months,_ and it’s clear Ben has missed her just as much, if the nearly desperate way he touches her isn’t indication enough. 

Ben sinks his teeth into her neck, and Devi rakes her nails across his shoulder in shock. “Ben,” she gasps, bucking against him. 

“Finally,” he murmurs, “I can do to you what I wanted to do in that closet.” 

She gasps, digging her nails into his biceps. “You—what?” 

Ben drags his teeth over her jaw, sharp, hard, hard enough that she knows a mark will be left on her neck. In fact, she’ll be shocked if he doesn’t leave marks everywhere on her skin tonight. “Fuck you, Devi.” 

Her eyes flutter shut, and she lets her head back against the wall, exposing more of her neck for him to mark. He moves his mouth down, sucking at the curve of her shoulder, gently dragging his teeth over the sensitive marks he leaves. “God, I missed touching you,” he murmurs.

Devi sucks in a breath. “I missed you touching me, Ben,” she whimpers. “Touch me.” 

“Hmm,” he hums, and then his hands are smoothing down her body, fingers tracing her curves, mapping her body. In the wake of not having him touch her for so long, her body reacts violently, exploding in heat. “I know you want that.” 

Then, impossibly quick, he pulls her hands off his shoulders and pins them behind her back, one of his hands easily wrapping around both of her wrists. “There we go,” he murmurs, directing his attention back to her neck. 

Devi bucks against him, struggling against his touch. “Ben,” she gasps. “Fuck, what are you doing?” She tries to pull her wrists out, but he’s even stronger than she remembers him being. 

“Calm down, Devi,” he says, his free hand slipping down her body to brush up underneath her shirt, fingers smoothing out over the plane of her stomach. He presses himself against her a bit harder, pressing her into the wall almost harshly. “You can’t touch me, quite yet.” 

“No, Ben,” she protests. “I—I need to touch you.” 

His nails scrape against her stomach a bit hard, and she gasps in pain, her mind swimming. He’s rougher than normal, mouth a little less gentle against her skin, but she likes it. Likes knowing she drives him to desperation. 

It’s been months since she’s touched him in any capacity, and today was not nearly enough. She needs to touch every inch of him and to press her lips against his skin, feel his heartbeat pound underneath her palm. “Ben, come on,” she tries. 

“I know you need to touch me, Devi,” he whispers. “Which is exactly why I’m not letting you, not yet.” 

Ben slides his hand down her stomach and undoes the button on her jeans, pulling the zipper down, before slipping his fingers into her, a little rough, and it punches the air from her lungs, her eyes flying open to lock with his. 

He looks at her hungry, a little feral, like he could _devour_ her, and she needs him to. “Fuck,” she gasps. 

Ben moves his hands, plunging his fingers into her a little rough and hard, and she bucks against him in shock, tearing a moan from her throat. “Oh my god.” Her skin feels like it’s on fire, just a little too tight, and the roughness with which he touches her takes her breath away, makes her pulse skip erratically. 

“Did you miss me?” he murmurs, teeth sinking into her neck hard enough to leave a mark. “Miss my hands?” 

She nods, whimpers as he flicks his thumb over her clit. “Yeah. Missed you so much, Ben.” 

Ben’s lips spread into a smile against her jaw, and he presses a jarringly soft kiss to her neck. “I missed you too. Now,” he murmurs, picking up the speed of his hands, moving a little roughly against her, “what do you want me to do?” 

He’s using that fucking voice on her, the cool, detached one that makes her lose her shit, and she struggles to catch her breath enough to answer him. “I—I want you to go harder,” she sobs, throwing her head back against the wall. 

Complying, his hand tightens around her wrists, and it’s almost too much, the warmth from his hand bleeding into her wrists, and she pulls uselessly against them. “Fuck,” she cries. 

“Feels good, doesn’t it?” Ben flicks his tongue down the line of her neck, soothing her skin. “God, I thought about you like this. Thought about you saying my name. Did you know that?” 

She sucks in a breath, eyes scanning his face for any deception, but there’s none. Ben picks up the pace even more, rubbing at her harder, scraping his teeth over her collarbone, and her legs shake, a strangled cry slipping from her throat when he twists his hand just right. 

“That’s it, babe,” he murmurs. “Come for me, come on.” 

Devi shatters, his name falling from her lips like a prayer, panting as she falls apart, nothing but his lips and hands and voice to ground her. She slumps against the wall, legs shaking ridiculously hard, feeling like she’s going to pass out. 

“Now that,” he whispers, gently easing his hand out of her, “is something I missed seeing.” Ben releases her hands, finally, and she instantly wraps them around his shoulders, fingers digging into his skin, finally, blissfully, touching him. 

She sighs, head tipping back against the wall as Ben kisses her neck, eyes fluttering shut. “Pervert,” she murmurs. “Knew there was something weird about you.” 

Ben slides his hands under her shirt and pulls it off, before his hands tug at her hair, pulling it out of her bun and letting it tumble down around her shoulders. “Your hair got longer,” he says, running his hands through it. 

“Yes, Gross,” Devi smirks, undoing the buttons on his shirt. “That’s what tends to happen over time with hair. It grows.” 

She eyes him appreciatively once she pushes his shirt off his shoulders, fingers running down his torso, mapping out the lines of his muscles. “Like what you see, David?” 

Devi smirks, leaning in and pressing a kiss to his jaw. “What would you do if I said yes?” 

Ben smirks and runs his hands down her body, hoisting her up as he says, “come find out.” Devi throws her head back and laughs as she locks her legs around his waist, gripping his shoulders tightly.

He walks her over to her bed, tossing her down on top of it, clambering on top of her to press sloppy kisses down the line of her stomach, tugging her jeans off easily. “Your skin is ridiculously soft,” he murmurs, thumb rubbing a circle into her hip. 

Devi clutches his shoulders and resists the urge to arch her back, squirming when he presses a kiss right above her navel. 

He undoes the clasp of her bra and presses a kiss to her breast, and it’s unexpectedly ticklish, with his stubble scraping against her skin, rubbing her skin a bit raw, and she giggles. 

“Not exactly what I want to hear from you right now,” Ben complains, as she runs her hands down his chest to undo the button on his jeans, shoving them down his hips. 

“It’s your stubble,” she complains, as he kisses her hip. “It’s ticklish.” 

Ben glances up at her, brow furrowing in confusion, as his thumbs hook around her panties and gently tug them down her legs. “It’s supposed to be sexy.” 

She shrugs. “Hit or miss, for you. I guess you missed.” 

Ben raises an eyebrow. “Really?” 

He ducks his head down, kissing her stomach. “So mean to me, your boyfriend who just gave you an orgasm.” 

“I can’t be too nice to you, Ben,” she murmurs. “If I do, you’ll get complacent.” 

“Complacent?” Ben jerks up so suddenly, he forgets that the bed in her apartment isn’t that large, and he topples right off of it. 

“Ben!” She jerks up into a sitting position to find him groaning on the floor of her apartment, and damn, she feels bad, but it’s so fucking funny, she can’t help but laugh, pressing her fist against her mouth to hide her giggles. 

“Oh my god,” he groans, sitting up and rubbing his head. “I’m glad to see you’re taking enjoyment in my pain.” 

Devi rolls her eyes. “Get over it, Ben.” 

Ben climbs back onto the bed, immediately smoothing his fingers over her stomach. “I will if you kiss me better,” he smirks, batting his lashes dramatically at her. 

Devi just kicks him in the leg, rolling her eyes. “Yeah, right.” 

“You’re horrible.” 

She purses her lips to bite back a smile as he rubs a circle into her stomach with his thumb, relaxing her muscles. “Yeah, but you love me anyways.” 

He pouts. “I fucking do.” 

“Don’t be such a dramatic, Ben,” she scoffs. Leaning in, she cups his face and presses a kiss to his jaw. “I love you too.” 

“Good,” he whispers, ducking down and kissing her jaw, and his stubble scrapes against her skin again, delightfully so, sending little bolts of pleasure zipping down her spine. “And as for being complacent—” he flips them over suddenly, causing a gasp to slip from her mouth, hands scrabbling at his shoulders to steady herself, “—I don’t really think I have gotten complacent, but you can be the judge of that.” He kisses her neck, and she sighs, shifting in his lap. 

“Fun,” she quips. Ben drags the tips of his fingers down her arm, pulling it away from her shoulders to kiss the tips of her fingers, gently, one at a time. Devi blushes. “What are you doing?” 

“I told you already,” he breathes, turning her hand around and pressing his lips to the inside of her wrist. Her heartbeat jackhammers at that, exponentially increasing in speed. “I missed you. A lot. That means all of you.” 

Ben tilts his head up and brushes his mouth against hers, soft, like her lips are made of cotton candy and kissing them too hard will hurt her. His fingers trace the shell of her ear, soft, before slipping into her hair, digging into them delightfully firmly. 

Devi spider walks her fingers up his spine as Ben trails his lips from her mouth to her collarbone, pressing gossamer soft kisses to all the marks that litter her shoulder. She curls her hand around the nape of his neck, steadying herself on him. 

(her anchor in a raging sea, her lighthouse in a hurricane, her island in a tempest, steady and stable and there) 

“Ben,” she murmurs, as his mouth skates down her neck and back up. “Oh, please,” she murmurs. 

His fingers skim up her back, and she arches into him, whimpering softly. “What do you want, babe?” 

“Ben, please,” she gasps. “I want you.” 

“Ok, ok, Devi,” he murmurs. Ben drags his teeth over the curve of her neck, fingers digging into her hips painfully tight, bruisingly so. She loves it, missed the almost possessive way he holds her during sex. “Where do you keep—” 

“Bottom dresser drawer,” she murmurs. 

He reaches down and fumbles, pulling the box out of the dresser drawer, unopened, of course. 

(sex with ben is all about trust and safety, and even though she’s been active with him for like, four years, they still are safe as possible. she trusts him, she does, but she’s not ready to risk that yet, especially while she’s on a college campus, and the other risks involved, and so she’s so grateful because he never questions her on it, complying whenever she asks) 

Ben pulls a condom out of the box and tosses it onto her drawer, and she plucks it out of his hand, tearing it open with her teeth. 

“Hot,” he murmurs, ducking his head down and kissing her breast. 

She rolls the condom on and sinks down on him and—it’s a little much, because it’s been a few months and that’s not really a long time, in the long term, but it’s _Ben_ and he always makes her feel good. 

She’s never been with anyone else, but she never needs to, not with him. 

Ben sinks his teeth into her neck, hands tightening on her hips, and she jerks against him, crying out softly. “Fuck, Ben, don’t move,” she whimpers. “Not yet.” 

“Devi,” he groans, scraping his nails up the length of her back. “I’ll—fuck, ok, babe, ok.” 

She shifts on top of him and digs her fingers into his shoulders tight, struggling to fight back the waves of pleasure threatening to overtake her. She wants to savor this moment, to hold onto it and enjoy it. 

“Ben,” she whispers. “Talk to me.” 

“Fuck, Devi,” he whispers. “Do you know how much I missed you?” 

He ducks down, pressing his lips to her shoulder. “I missed you so much, babe. I missed you every single day.” He scrapes his teeth, _hard,_ over her breast and she hisses, nails scoring across his back. 

Devi lets her eyes flutter shut, and she chokes back a moan as Ben slides a hand down to their bodies and presses his thumb against her clit. “Every day,” he whispers. “I love you, Devi.” 

“You love me ev—every day?” she breathes, eyes rolling into the back of her head as he rubs harder, the tension in her body drawing tighter, like a string. “Or you missed me every day?”

“Who sa—says it can’t be both?” he chokes out. 

“Ok, ok, Ben,” she whimpers. “Please, please move.” 

Ben’s other hand splays against her back, and he rolls his hips into hers gently, at first, but Devi wants more, wants passion and fire. 

“Go—go harder,” she commands, biting down on his earlobe.

“Fuck, ok,” he groans, picking up the pace, snapping his hips into hers. She gasps, raking her nails down his back, hard, and she closes her eyes, trying not to feel too overwhelmed. “You feel am—amazing, Devi,” he murmurs, into her skin. 

Ben tilts his head up and scatters kisses across her neck, sucking on the small triangle of skin between her ear and her jaw. “So good, babe. I love you, so much.” 

“Ben,” she breathes. “I love you, please don’t go.” 

“Ok,” he agrees. “Ok, I won’t.” 

He is lying. 

(devi holds her tongue to keep from begging him to never leave her side, to stay with her in her small apartment here and to fall asleep with his face buried in her neck, with his arm slung around her waist, holding her close. letting him go does not get any easier the more she does it, and the strange thing is, she hopes it never does. in a strange way, the pain is welcome, because it means she doesn’t not love him any less. but she won’t beg him to stay with her, not yet. he has his own life to lead) 

Devi bites down on his shoulder as he picks up his pace, snapping into her _hard,_ tearing a sob from her throat. “God,” she cries, as he grips her tighter. “More, Ben, please.” 

“You’re close, babe,” he whispers. “So close.” Ben slides his hand up to her hair, cradling her head. “You like it like this, don’t you? A little rough?” 

To punctuate his point, he bucks into her faster, raking his teeth down her neck at the same time, and she gasps, ecstasy pulsing through her veins. She nods, half-delirious, grappling at his shoulders to pull him closer. “Yes, yes, Ben, _please.”_

He growls, sucking a mark into the hollow of her throat. “Good. You gonna come for me now?” he asks, rubbing his free hand against her harder. “Gonna show me what I missed? Gonna come for me cause you love me? I love you, Devi. Come on, babe. Come on.” Ben’s hand fists in her hair, and, unwittingly, he jerks, pulling it a bit, and for some reason, this is the thing that sends her into sensory overload. 

“Ben!” Devi cries, and shatters, more intense than she’s come before, and her legs lock around his waist painfully tight, nails drawing blood as she scores them up his back, and she throws her head back, eyes squeezing shut almost painfully. 

He follows her, latching onto her shoulder with his teeth, and she pants, coming down from her high slowly, running her hand up and down his back. She stays there, for how long, she’s not sure, but she stays, to catch her breath and let her muscles relax. When she finally manages to speak, the first thing that manages to come out is, “I love you.” 

Ben pulls back, smirking up at her. “New kink there, David,” he drawls, wrapping a strand of hair around his finger and tugging on it, lightly. “Nice discovery for me.” 

“I tell you I love you and that’s how you react?” She smacks him on top of the head. “Fucking asshole.” 

“You tell me you love me all the time,” he points out, sliding his hands around her waist to hold her steady. “That?” he smirks, eyes running over her body, and though he’s seen her naked before, it still makes her flush, “that you’ve never done before.” 

Devi blushes bright red. “I seriously cannot believe you,” she says, shifting off of him gently, wincing.

He shakes his head, smirking. “You love me.” 

“Loving you and being astounded by the capabilities you have to be an asshole are not mutually exclusive,” she points out, sliding off the bed and wrapping the sheets around herself. “Come on.” 

They freshen up, before she climbs back onto her bed, sitting wrapped in her blankets. Ben tugs on his boxers and settles down next to her, dropping a light kiss on her shoulder. “So, are you gonna kick me out?” he murmurs. 

Devi grabs her phone and raises an eyebrow at him. “Did you like, book a hotel, or something?” 

He grins sheepishly. “No, not exactly.” 

“Good, cause you’re obviously staying here, dumbass.” 

(every second she gets with him, she’s going to take it) 

Ben smiles. “Good.” 

Devi leans over and kisses him on the jaw, wrinkling her nose as her lips scrape the stubble. “Ow,” she says. “Stubble’s still scratchy.” 

He gives her a deadpan look. “You didn’t find it sexy? Seriously?” 

“No, Ben,” she sighs, tired they’re having this debate again. “I did not find your stubble sexy.” 

“Shame,” he murmurs. He lays kisses from her shoulder to her cheek, settling himself over her, and scraping his stubble down her neck. She winces as it rubs against the sensitive marks still there, but she likes it. He plucks her phone out of her hands and sets it aside. “How about we make a deal?” 

“What deal?” she sighs, hands diving into his hair as he methodically tugs the sheet down her body, dragging his lips over the newly exposed planes of skin the whole time. 

“You let me make up for lost time, and I’ll show you just how sexy you’ll find my stubble,” he rasps, sucking at the skin of her thigh. 

“Lost—lost time?” she chokes out, tightening her grip on him. “What do you mean?” 

“Let me show you,” he murmurs, and then he moves his mouth, and stops talking to her. 

* * *

A while later, Ben shifts off of her, head falling against the pillow. “Good?” he breathes, eyes flicking over her face. 

Devi, who’s still trying to catch her breath, turns her head to stare at him, staring at him incredulously. “You think?” 

Ben shrugs, shifting and pulling the covers over them, tucking them around her waist. “I mean, you could have faked it.” 

She can’t move her legs to kick him, so she smacks him in the chest instead. “You just want me to tell you you’re good in bed.” 

“Well, this might come as a surprise to you, David, but since I started dating you, I haven’t slept with anyone else, so frankly, you’re my only source of information.” 

“I should hope so!” 

“I’ve really fucked up the data collection on this one,” he murmurs, pressing kisses to her shoulders. She sighs, shifting, moving closer to him as his hand slides around her waist, tugging her closer. “My statistics professor would be furious with me.” 

“What do you mean by that?” Devi laughs. 

“I mean I always get my data from the same source. I always have. Not much room for a varied sample, is there?” 

“You think about getting a varied sample, Gross, and I’ll chop your dick off,” she laughs. 

Ben kisses her cheek. “Never, babe.” 

Devi reaches over and runs her hand through his hair, watching as his eyes flutter shut. He must be exhausted, after driving almost three straight hours to come see her, without a break. “How about you get some sleep instead?” 

He sighs, tucking his face into her neck. “I love you.” 

“I love you too, you idiot,” she whispers. 

“No, like, I really love you,” he says, slightly delirious from exhaustion. “I’m gonna marry you one day.” 

She swears her heart stops in her chest, and she swallows roughly, running her hand through his hair. Devi grapples for something to say, but there’s—nothing there, just the sound of her heart hammering away in her chest, the only sound in the quiet room besides Ben’s breathing. 

“Really, Gross?” she finally manages to choke out. “You already got a plan for that?” 

He doesn’t respond, and when she looks down at him, she sees his face has relaxed in sleep, lashes gently fluttering against his cheek as he breathes in and out. His arm tightens around her waist, tugging her a bit closer. 

“I’m gonna say yes,” she whispers back.

(they’ve not really talked about marriage before, mentioned it more as an abstract concept, which it really is, for them. they’re twenty-one, not thirty-one, and they’re not the type to be dumb and get married young. but she supposes it’s not that weird. after all, she and ben have been dating for over five years. she doesn’t love him any less than since the beginning—in fact, she thinks she only loves him more. he’s the only person she can _imagine_ taking that step with, the only person she wants to take that step with) 

She sighs, pressing a kiss to his forehead, and then another, and another. “I love you.” 

He can’t hear her, but she needs to say it, for her own peace of mind, needs to let those words fall from her lips. 

Devi loves him so much she doesn’t know what to do with herself sometimes. She runs her fingers over his cheek, letting his stubble rub against her skin. 

Her skin is insanely tight, chest and stomach and thighs rubbed raw with slight beard burn from the scrape of his stubble against her skin, and she’s not going to be able to wear jeans for the next few days because of it, but he was right. She does find it sexy, especially now. 

Devi leans down and presses a kiss to his jaw, stroking her thumb underneath his eyes. To check the time, she reaches blindly for her phone on the dresser drawer, but when she grabs it and brings it to her face, she realizes she’s grabbed Ben’s accidentally. 

“Shit,” she swears, softly. “We didn’t take our picture.” 

Double checking the time shows that it’s only 11:45, which means, technically, it’s still the day of the date. But she’s not going to wake Ben up to take a _photo._ He’s exhausted, and he deserves to get his rest.

So, she’ll take the photo for the both of them. 

She shifts down the bed, pressing her forehead against his, adjusting the phone out of the corner of her eye to snap a photo of him. God must be on her side, because she only needs to snap one photo of them pressed together, eyes closed, before she deems it satisfactory enough to tuck the phone away. 

(her eyes start to feel heavy, and she hates it, because falling asleep in bed with ben is one of her favorite things in the world to do, but she doesn’t want to spend any time with ben with her eyes closed. she wants to look at him forever, doesn’t want to whittle away what little time they have left together before he has to go back to yale and she has to go back to princeton and her life and this little piece of heaven they’ve carved out, this liminal, limitless space, will be gone. and just the thought of that makes tears prick at her eyes) 

Devi leans forward and presses a kiss to his forehead again, choking back tears and smoothing her fingers over the curve of his cheek. “Please, don’t go,” she murmurs, so quiet she can’t even hear herself. “I love you.” 

It’s the very definition of an exercise in futility, wanting him to stay with her when he can’t, not know, but she swears, she swears once college is over, she’ll never let him go again. 

The lure of sleep and the scent of sandalwood lingering in her bed is too much to resist, so she leans down, pulls his shirt off of the ground and slips it over her shoulders, settling against the pillows, reaching over to turn off the light. 

Ben’s arm tugs her closer, and he moves, nose nuzzling into her shoulder as his arm tightens around her. 

Devi sighs, and lets herself fall asleep in his arms for the first time in months. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> your comments and kudos keep me alive during uni! come talk to me about the show! you can find me on tumblr: @[parkersedith](https://parkersedith.tumblr.com)


	5. date four-hundred-and-ninety-two (seven years, ten months, and seventeen days)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _“I do love nothing in this world so well as you?”_
> 
> _“Is that not strange?” she quotes back, running her fingers through the hair at the nape of his neck, soothing and constant._
> 
> _“As strange as the thing I know not.”_
> 
> _Devi shakes her head. “That’s not even the best play of his.”_
> 
> _“I don’t know,” he murmurs, lips brushing hers. “I kind of like it. Enemies fall for each other, against all odds? Hero faking her death? You have to admit, it’s a bit of a riot.”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi this is edited but like in a rush and i have homework to do so it's going up now god forbid i forget it again
> 
> this chapter is just full of nonsense domesticity and has no plot whatsoever and unless your soul has been consumed by dr. paul harrison in organic chemistry i could not care less if you don't like it
> 
> (i mean tbh i hope everyone does but like. also i'm numb and tired) 
> 
> i would say i'm sorry for it being late but i'm really not to anyone except leila so like. deal with it. being a uni student is super hard and i'm gonna go write an essay now bye ✌️✌️

Ben plants his hands on his hips and looks around his apartment. 

Except it’s not just his apartment anymore. It’s his and Devi’s. Their place. 

They’ve moved into downtown Manhattan—the rent is astronomical, but Ben can afford it—just after graduating. Devi’s going to med school here—and Ben’s at Columbia Law, so it really works out quite perfectly. They’ve moved in together and they’ll be living together for the first time, and he’d be lying if he said he wasn’t a little nervous. 

Especially since he and Devi seem to have  _ insanely _ different tastes in interior decoration. Ben winces as he takes in the teal throw pillows that litter his nice grey couch. 

Devi is all color and light and brightness, while he prefers more muted tones, blue and navys—which she perpetually rolls her eyes at him for, calling him an octogenarian—so watching this play out will be pretty interesting, he thinks. 

There are plenty of boxes scattered around the apartment, and he can hear Devi clattering around in their bathroom. 

“Babe?” he calls, turning his head. “What are you doing?” 

“I can’t find my hair dryer!” she says. He can hear a clatter as she knocks something over—likely the cup she keeps all her hair brushes in—and why Devi has six different types of hair brushes, Ben thinks he will never know—and Devi swears. “Fuck!” 

Ben walks to the bathroom to find her standing in the mess, glaring down at the tiling like it’s offended her. “David,” he says, leaning against the threshold. “You know those hair brushes didn’t do anything to you, right?” 

Devi buries her face in her hands. “Shut up, Ben.” 

He reaches out and wraps his hand around hers, tugging her close to him. “Babe,” he murmurs. “Is everything ok?” 

Devi suddenly starts crying, and Ben panics. 

“Oh shit, Devi,” he says, sliding his hand up her arm. “Are you hurt? What—I—” 

“Calm down, Ben,” she sobs, wiping her tears away. 

“You’re the one crying right now and I have no idea why and I’m kind of panicking,” he says, frozen in the threshold of their bathroom. “Mind giving me an update?” 

“I love you,” she says, continuing to cry, “but god, you’re a dumbass.” 

“Devi, I don’t really think this is the best time to be insulting me.” 

Devi wipes her tears away, breathing in deeply, her tears calming down. “I can insult you with one hand tied behind my back, Gross. I can cry at the same time.” 

Ben pulls her closer, running his hands up and down her back as she tucks her nose into his neck. He can feel her hot tears press against his skin, and he’s worried, but he’s seen Devi fall apart for  _ real _ and he knows this is more stress-induced than anything else. “Yeah, I know, David. You’re just that amazing.” 

“Damn straight,” she breathes, relaxing into him. 

Ben rubs soothing circles into the small of her back, and with each pass of his fingers over her skin, she melts further and further into him, loosening her limbs until she’s slumped against him. “I love you,” he murmurs. “Want to talk about it?” 

(this is something he has tried to do more and more, talk to her about things. direct communication was never been—and has never been, he thinks—one of their strengths, but that doesn’t mean he can’t try to make them better at it, can’t try to reach out to her and  _ tell _ her things, tell her how he’s feeling)

“Yeah,” Devi says, pulling away from him. “It’s just—a lot of stress, you know?” 

He slides a hand up her back and up, cupping her cheek. “Yeah,” he murmurs. “I know.” 

They’re both in their second year of graduate school and living in a new city together, and it’s starting to get to them. Ben can speak to the long hours he spends studying texts and poring over law tomes, obscure cases he doubts he’ll ever need. He’s about thirty seconds away from perpetually falling asleep whenever he opens his textbooks. 

Devi is just as bad as him, if not worse. He doesn’t understand a single thing in one of her textbooks, even though he graduated salutatorian in high school. They’re both pretty shitty of taking care of themselves. 

So, they do it for each other. 

(it’s how they work, taking care of one other)

“Devi,” he murmurs, scoring his thumb over her cheek. “You know you don’t need to stress. You're so smart.” 

“So is everyone else in this school, Ben.” Devi closes her eyes. “They’re all brilliant.” 

“Not as brilliant as you.” 

She huffs out a laugh, leaning forward so her forehead touches his. “You love me, and so love has made you delusional and weak, that’s why you’re saying that.” 

“Yeah, but I don’t lie, remember?” He brushes his nose against hers, eyes slipping shut. “I know it’s stressful moving into a new apartment and going to med school at the same time, but you’ve got this.” 

“You think so?” She groans. “Med school is  _ hard, _ Ben. There’s like, a million and one things I need to have memorized by the end of this week and sometimes I just want to collapse face first into the couch and sleep for a million years.” 

“Well,” he says. “You’re welcome to use my blanket. A million things  _ does _ seem like a lot to memorize.” 

She chuckles. “Do you think that’s enough of an excuse for you to cook dinner every night?” 

“I’ve got my own things to do as well, babe.” 

She slides her arms around his waist. “Sure I can’t convince you? I’ve got a lot of tricks up my sleeve.” 

Ben presses his lips against hers for a split second, pulling back to look her in the eyes. “How about you relax, help me unpack, and we can go out for dinner tonight?” 

Devi hums, eyes sparkling. “I like my idea better.” 

Ben laughs. “Course you do. Come on, we’ll go to a diner.” 

She leans forward and lets her eyes flutter closed. “I’m just so worried, Ben.” 

“Yeah, I know, babe. It’s gonna be ok.” 

“I just—I wanted to be a doctor for so long, you know?” He nods. He’s heard this before, knows Devi better than almost anyone else, he likes to think, after almost eight years of being together. “And now I’m just worried about keeping up, and we just moved into a new place and there’s so much stuff to be done and so much adult shit we have to do and I just—” 

“Hey, hey,” he soothes. “Devi, Devi, it’s going to be ok. You’ve got me, ok?” 

(and he has got her. there is a lot weighing on them, a new city where they hardly know anyone, even after a year, busy lives, and they have just moved in together. he loves her, and he knows they can do this, but there are still the nerves, of course, that come with adulthood. ben is twenty-three, almost twenty-four, and he is not yet sure what his life looks like, despite having planned the vast majority of it out. if loving devi has taught him anything, is that life is unpredictable. thirteen year old ben could never have thought he would love her, and twenty-three year old ben knows that loving her is the biggest part of himself there is. and he is so, so glad for that. ben cannot read the future, but it does not matter to him, as long as he has devi by his side)

“That’s really not all that reassuring,” she drawls. 

“Well, considering I’ve got you, I could say the same thing.” 

“You’re such an asshole.” 

“You love me anyways.” 

Devi laughs, pulling herself away from him. “I’ll love you more if you help me unpack.” 

“David,” he says, following her into the living room as she pulls more pillows out of her boxes. “Why do we need so much stuff?” 

“So much stuff? Ben, we’re not cavemen. We can have things to make our apartment homey and pretty.” 

“Or, conversely, it becomes cluttered with stuff.” 

Devi rolls her eyes as she kicks her pink ottoman—hers, he would like to clarify, because there’s no way he would ever let his place have mismatched furniture like she does—to the side, fluffing the pillow up. “This is hardly clutter, Gross.” 

Ben grabs the box of kitchen things and drops it on the kitchen counter, pulling the mismatched cutlery out. “Dear god, David, haven’t you ever heard of sets?” 

Devi rolls her eyes. “I’m not blowing money on having fancy cutlery sets. Who the hell are we going to have over anyways? We don’t know like, anyone here.” 

“Excuse me, Eleanor is already here for her Broadway training.” 

“Yeah, but besides her? Fabiola is in Silicon Valley, and you and I don’t know anyone else.” Ben neatly places the spoons into the silverware sorter in the drawer, carefully organizing them. Devi’s a neat freak, as well as he is, but she’s got a lot more in the way of mismatched items. “Babe?” 

“Yeah, what’s up?” he says, barely lifting his head up. 

“Do you think we need a steel pan?” 

Ben furrows his brows. “Uh, what?” He glances up to find Devi placing her succulents on the windowsills—the one thing they can both agree on—that succulents are easy for them to take care of. 

“A steel pan.” She gnaws her lip. “Maybe we could try out a few recipes.” 

Ben laughs, grabbing their coffee mugs and tucking them carefully into the cabinet, one by one. He makes sure to tuck Devi’s favorite cup—the one with the white polka dots—and carefully places it in the forefront, grabbing the coffeemaker out after. “If we even have enough time,” he says. “I’ll consider myself lucky to see you.” 

Devi sighs, pulling her hair up into a ponytail, the earrings he got her for their fifth anniversary winking at her earlobes. He’d seen them—diamonds, the birthstone of April—in the jewelry shop, and it had only been three months to their anniversary, so he’d bought them for her. They look beautiful, and he finds his mind wandering as he studies the slope of her neck. 

(devi is beautiful in the way sunsets are, but she is also beautiful in the way fresh dewdrops on grass are. she is beautiful in the quiet of their apartment, wrapped in a hoodie, but she is also beautiful in finery. she is beautiful wherever, and he loves her so much sometimes he thinks he will explode from it)

“Well,” Devi says, pulling him out of his errant thoughts, “I guess we’ll just have to try hard then.” She crosses her arms. “Ben, where did you put the box full of my textbooks?” 

“I think they’re in the office, babe,” he calls, rifling through the box of kitchen things to find the oven mitts. 

The one thing that was really good about this apartment was that there was a spare bedroom—aside from the guest bedroom and theirs—they had managed to convert into an office. There would be plenty of space for them to work, instead of having to sit at the kitchen table. 

Ben finishes the box full of kitchen things and grabs the other one, sliding the pots and pans into the cabinet. He works in silence until he hears Devi step out of the office. 

That’s the thing, he’s beginning to realize, about living with Devi. Ben is not used to living with someone who reminds him—so much it hurts at times—why storms are named after people. He has endured years and years of coming home to a silent house, to parents whisking themselves away at the earliest opportunity—but Devi is the exact opposite. She is loud and brash and whenever she is home he knows. He likes it. Likes that silence is not a thing when it comes to her. Likes that she announces her presence with the scent of jasmine and that she swears when she stubs her toe. 

Ben has lived in a house, but living with Devi, for all of two hours, this apartment feels like home. 

(ben has never had a home before—not really a place where he could call his own. but devi, devi is his home more than any place has ever been. she is what makes his apartment his home) 

He turns from the stove to see her chewing her lip as she stares at the boxes in the living room. “David?” he says, stepping closer to her. “What’s up?” 

“Do you think we should stack the bookshelf?” she asks, tilting her head to the side. “After all, it’s already up, and books are some of our heaviest things.” 

“Yeah, sure,” he says, coming out of the kitchen and around the house. “Where are the boxes of books?” 

“Uh, the coffee table, I think,” she says. Devi slides her hands around his back and props her chin on his shoulder. “Aren’t you glad we got this coffee table? A glass one wouldn’t be sturdy at all.” 

Ben chokes out a laugh. “David, this coffee table is full of nicks. You got it secondhand.” 

Devi presses a kiss to his cheek. “Secondhand just means loved. Plus, this way we don’t have to worry about like, I don’t know, breaking it.” 

He glances down at the table, sighing heavily. “You ready to do this?” 

Devi tightens her arms around him. “Yup.”

“You know,” he says, tracing patterns on her arm, soft and smooth and supple to the touch. He lifts her hand and presses his lips to her knuckles. “You’ll have to let me go.” 

Devi groans, pulling away from him and opening up the first boxes of books. “You have such pretentious taste in books, babe.” 

He presses a kiss to her cheek and pulls out the other stack, neatly slotting them onto the shelf. “You’ve read all of these, so I don’t know what you’re talking about, David.”

“Yeah, well, I can have the slightest bit of respect considering I know you also hate  _ The Unbearable Lightness of Being.” _

“Most boring book of all time,” he quips, pulling out his copy of  _ The Emperor of Maladies _ and tucking it on the top shelf, with his science books. 

“Ok, it’s objectively terrible, yes, but it’s also overtly misogynistic,” she adds. 

Ben snorts. “Great. Another checkmark in the plus column.” 

Devi rolls her eyes as she hands him another stack of his history books. “Yeah, I mean, I probably picked up on it more than you considering I’m—you know—a chick—and ten times more brilliant, but I  _ hated _ that book.” 

“Oh, I know,” he hums, flipping open his copy of  _ SPQR _ by Mary Beard, wincing when he sees the water damage on the edge. He’s going to have to buy another copy. “You didn’t shut up about it junior year of high school.” 

She narrows her eyes at him. “Did you want me to shut up, Gross?” 

Ben chuckles, not even pulling his eyes from his book to bump his lips against her head in a clumsy kiss. “Never, babe. Did you see my copy of  _ The Classical World _ over there?”

“Yeah, here it is,” she says, handing the book to him. “Where’s my copy of  _ The Poisoner’s Handbook?” _

“Right here.” He hands it to her, opening up one of the last two boxes. 

“You know what is objectively the most boring book of all time, though?” she says, opening up the last box. 

“Hmm?” 

_ “Farewell to Manzanar.” _

“What?” he says, scrunching his nose up. “You remember that? I think we read that in like, sixth grade.” 

“Yeah, and all I remember about it was that it was boring as hell.” 

“What?” he says, utterly baffled. 

“It was  _ so _ boring. I hated it so much. I wish that it was better.” 

“The subject matter is compelling.” 

“Yeah, but the writing style lacks a true narrative voice.” She smacks him in the chest with his copy of  _ The Book Thief,  _ signed by the author, and he scowls at her, grabbing it from her and making sure it’s not damaged. “Stop arguing with me. You know I’m right.” 

“Well, David,” he says, wry, examining the cover of his book before putting it away, “I’m not sure about that, considering your history.” 

“Yes, my history of being valedictorian and always brilliant.” 

Devi pulls a heavy book out and nearly drops it on his foot. “Watch it!” he hisses. “What is that?” 

_ “The Complete Collection of the Works of Shakespeare,” _ she says, turning it over in her hands. 

Ben snorts. “Sans  _ Romeo and Juliet? _ That’s the only way that thing would ever be worth buying.” 

_ “Romeo and Juliet _ is a testament to the human heart and how societal and family pressures can drive people to desperation.” 

_ “Romeo and Juliet _ is a story about two dumb kids.” 

Devi plants her hands on her hips and scowls at him. “Don’t disparage Shakespeare.” 

Ben reaches out and wraps his hands around her waist, tugging her close. “Ok then,” he murmurs. “Want me to quote him to you instead?” 

Devi laughs. “Right, right. Let me guess, “Shall I compare thee to a summer’s day”?”

“You really think me that unimaginative?” he sighs, pressing kisses down the length of her neck. Devi sighs, running her hands through his hair. “I could quote something way more romantic than that to you.” 

“You’re just a hopeless romantic, aren’t you?” she murmurs, tilting her head so he can gently scrape his teeth against the line of her jaw. 

(he is hopelessly, hopelessly in love with her. worse than quicksand, worse than any black hole is the look in devi’s eyes when she smiles at him. It pulls him in more than any black hole could hope to do, stronger than the force of gravity. the force of devi’s smile, he thinks, is the greatest force on earth) 

“Hopeless?” Ben wrinkles his nose. “I don’t like that. Are you saying it’s hopeless for me to quote poetry at you?” 

Devi grins, her eyes sparkling. “Yeah, maybe I am. I mean, come on. You can’t have any Shakespeare memorized.” 

“Hmm, I don’t know about that,” he murmurs. “I do love nothing in this world so well as you?”

“Is that not strange?” she quotes back, running her fingers through the hair at the nape of his neck, soothing and constant. 

“As strange as the thing I know not.” 

Devi shakes her head. “That’s not even the best play of his.” 

“I don’t know,” he murmurs, lips brushing hers. “I kind of like it. Enemies fall for each other, against all odds? Hero faking her death? You have to admit, it’s a bit of a riot.” 

“Of course,” she snorts. “I’ve always been an  _ As You Like It _ girl myself.” 

“Not surprised,” he whispers, skating his fingers up her spine. “Rosalind seems exactly like your type of heroine. Brash, bold, strong.” 

“You’re calling me brash?” 

“Hell yeah.” 

Devi pulls away from him, smirking. “You’re hopeless at romance.” 

He reaches out and flicks her earlobe, earring sparkling in the light. “That’s how I’m a hopeless romantic then, huh?” 

“Yeah, exactly,” she smirks. “Come on, now. We have to finish the rest of the apartment. Someone promised me dinner, right?” 

“I thought you wanted something else,” he smirks. 

She smacks him in the chest. “Idiot. Come on, help me get our living room ready.” 

“David,” he whines. “Come on. Don’t you think we deserve a break?” 

“Ben,” she says, voice find, “come one. Never pegged you for the lazy one. If we get this done, then we won’t have to do it later.” 

Devi presses her lips to his, but just as he feels her pull away, Ben presses his hand to her back, keeping her pressed flush against him. She smiles as he kisses her, other hand going up to cup her jaw. “Ben,” she murmurs. “We have to work. Remember. That’s what you said.” 

He pulls his mouth away from her and kisses her collarbone. “I’m an idiot. Isn’t that what you’re always telling me?” 

“Ben,” she whines. “Babe, come  _ on. _ We have to do the rest of this.” 

He sighs. “Fine,” he murmurs, pressing another kiss to her collarbone before pulling away. “I guess we can do work.” 

Devi grins at him, before skipping over to the living room and lifting up a box in her arms. “Come on. I have a ton of clothes to put away, and so do you.” 

Ben lifts the box from her and walks into their bedroom. “Divide and conquer?” he asks, raising an eyebrow. “I take the living room, you take the bedroom?” 

“Yeah,” she nods. “At least all the furniture is here. We just have to finish unpacking everything except for the kitchen supplies.” 

Ben presses a kiss to her cheek. “I’ll take the living room, then?” 

She nods, already opening the box full of her clothes. “Sounds good.” 

Ben ducks out of the bedroom and finishes setting up the living room, all of the little things that he doesn’t understand—chotchkies and bowls and miscellaneous items, as well as posters, hanging them up on the walls. He pulls the alpaca blanket—that Devi always pretends to hate but he always finds her snuggled up under when she falls asleep on his couch—out, draping it over the back of their sofa. 

Dark blue blanket, grey couch, pink ottoman. Nothing matches. It’s all ridiculously haphazard. 

Ben shakes his head and moves into the office, unpacking all of the boxes and putting the staplers, hole punchers, and a bunch of Devi’s and his other things on their desks, making sure to keep everything where it needs to be. 

When he comes back into the living room, he finds Devi there, her hip jutting out, looking at something with crossed arms. “Hey?” he asks. “What are you looking at?” 

She smiles at him, looking at the shelf in the corner. “I like this.” She points to the photo of them from three weeks ago, in Central Park, looking at each other instead of the camera. He can’t remember which one of Devi’s friends had taken it for them—a Madison or Madeleine—but he likes it too. 

“I do look amazing in it,” he agrees. 

Devi laughs. “Not as good as I look. We should get more photos.” 

“I get it, David,” he smirks. “You just want to look at my handsome face all the time.” 

She winks at him. “I just don’t want you to forget how hot I am, babe.” 

“I could never. After all, you are a solid nine to my perfect ten.” 

“Oh, really?” She shakes her head, slowly, almost as if she is keeping in time with some music he cannot see. Devi reaches her hand out, and he takes it, linking their thumbs around each other as they hold hands. 

(on her right thumb there is a scar there that he knows is from the time she was cooking dinner with her mom, making sambar vada—her favorite—when she spilt oil on herself, and ben comes to the realization that there are a thousand stories in her skin, behind every scar and freckle and moment of her life, and he wants to know all of them, to open her up like a book and read her and brush his fingers over the pages over and over again. he wants all the pieces in the million piece puzzle that forms her—the only true masterpiece he knows) 

“Yeah,” he grins. “Hotter than everyone else. Not quite on my level, though.” 

“Oh, no, never,” she mocks, shaking her head seriously. He can feel his pulse radiate in his thumb, her pulse mirroring it, like two waves, crashing into one another, in perfect harmony, creating a symphony. Like a duet. “I could never be on your level.” 

He winks at her. “You know it, babe.” 

Devi laughs, before slipping her hand out of his and jerking her thumb—left hand, not right—towards the hallway. “Hey. I’m gonna finish up the bathroom. Do you want to put your clothes away?” 

“Yeah.” Ben glances around the apartment. “Where is the box with my things?” 

“Oh, I put it in the bedroom.” 

Ben nods and goes into the room, putting his things away quickly and efficiently. He spots a new dark green dress hanging in their closet and makes a mental note to buy a green tie to match it, before he brings the empty box out and tosses it in the corner of the living room. 

The living room looks perfectly set up, sunlight spilling through the window to rest on the couch. Devi’s succulents are placed on the windowsill, the walls the sort of pale blue that reminds him of the sky when you fly above the clouds in a plane. His white rug, but her purple lamp. The TV for them to watch movies on and the photo of her that is his personal favorite, of her in her cap and gown, graduating from Princeton, her head thrown back as she laughs. 

“Devi,” he calls. “I think we’re done.” 

She hums as she sets the dish soap underneath the sink. “Yeah, I think so too.” Devi doesn’t look at him as she pulls her hair out of its ponytail, and Ben leans against the wall, arms crossed, watching her. 

(not in like, a creepy way. but the way you watch the waves crash against the beach or the way you watch a forest fire burn—something impossible to take your eyes away from, something beautiful and amazing and captivating. looking at devi reminds him of the same feeling he gets looking up at the stars—like he is staring into a boundless infinity he will never know all of the secrets too, but wants to explore for the rest of his life)

His eyes trace her hair as she runs her hands through it, and she’s dressed in a hoodie—his, to be more specific, from Yale—and a pair of jeans and she is the most beautiful thing he has ever seen. 

Ben walks to her, wrapping his arms around her waist and tugging her close to him. He brushes his nose against her hair, breathing her in. “I love you,” he murmurs. 

It is something that before Devi, he was not used to saying. It is something that he used to cherish. Because while his parents may have said it, he had always wondered if they said it out of choice or obligation, because he was their son. 

But with Devi there is choice laden in every single thing they do, choice laden in all of the words they say, choice in every moment of their lives. She loves him, she loves him, she loves him, and she’s here because she wants to be here. 

Devi turns her head to the side and smiles. “I love you too.” 

(before, ben would have equated devi loving him to one of those impossible things that seem to happen against all odds: rome fell, smallpox eradicated, the library of alexandria burning. a fluke, a one of a kind event. but devi loving him, he knows now, was none of those things. it is butterflies soaring through cerulean skies and lavender blossoms. it is simple and easy and a fact of life)

Ben kisses her shoulder. “So,” he murmurs. “I give it a week before we kill each other?” 

“Oh, you’ve got a lot of faith in us if you think we’re gonna last that long, babe,” Devi laughs. 

He kisses a little higher up on her neck. “Fair enough.” He bites at her jaw as she traces patterns up and down his arm, soothing and kind and lovely. “Three days?” 

“Yeah, that seems a bit more accurate.” 

Devi turns around in his arms, slinging her arms over his neck, eyes sparkling with mirth. “I know of plenty of ways to get rid of a body.” 

Ben raises an eyebrow. “You do, do you? Interesting.” 

“Mmm. Don’t piss me off too much, and maybe I won’t be tempted.” 

He laughs. “Glad to know. Now, are you ready to get something to eat? Moving all those boxes made me hungry.” 

She smiles. “Yeah. Let’s go.” 

* * *

Ben opens the door to a small diner three blocks down from their apartment, letting Devi walk through before he follows her. They slide into an empty booth immediately, and he gratefully accepts a menu from the waitress. 

“God,” Devi sighs, propping her elbow up on the table. “We’re like, actual adults now.” 

“Not much of an actual adult if your manners are still deplorable,” he smirks, eyes flicking down her arm. 

“You’re always gonna be a jackass, aren’t you?” 

Ben reaches over and pokes her in the cheek, playfully. “Yup.” 

“Great,” Devi drawls, flipping open her menu, scanning over the options. “That’s exactly what I wanted to hear. Spending the rest of my life with a jackass.” 

“My, my, David,” Ben smirks, leaning back in his booth and stretching his arm out across the back. “Are you proposing to me?” 

“Just stating the fact that I’m the only person in this world smart enough to be able to put up with you indefinitely. Don’t get too excited about wedding bells.” 

Ben grins at her, thinking about the velvet box he has tucked away beneath a bunch of his things in a drawer Devi will never, ever look in, for any reason. “Ok,” he agrees, easily. 

Devi narrows her eyes at him. “You agreed weirdly easily to that.” 

“Hmm,” he hums, ignoring her. “And what do you have to say about that?” 

“Nothing,” she says, words careful and measured. “I think.” 

“Cool. I think french fries and chicken fingers, right?” he says, shifting the tone of the conversation. 

Devi rolls her eyes. “Fine. Be like that.” 

Ben smiles at her, pressing his lips to her forehead for a moment. “I will be like that, thank you, babe. Do you want anything to eat?” 

“Yeah,” she sighs. “Mac and cheese  _ please.” _

“Comfort food?” 

Devi nods, resting her head on his shoulder. “Yeah. Working out so much today has really got me tired. I think I could use comfort food.” 

“I should ask your mom to teach me how to make sambar vada,” he says quietly. 

She bursts out laughing at that. “You’re delusional if you think you can make sambar vada. That’s like, a skilled dish. And it requires more than one part and lots of very, very hot oil.” 

Ben frowns at her, slightly put off. “I think I could make it. It would make you feel better, right?” 

Devi shakes her head. “I love you, Ben, but honestly, I think it would be more funny than anything.” 

“Happy to provide entertainment at any time.” 

“Better than any sitcom,” she quips. 

The waitress comes by to take their orders and drop off their drinks, and Ben rolls his eyes as Devi sips her chocolate milkshake. “You know that those things are really just all sugar, right?” 

Devi laughs, pushing her drink away from her. “Is this how it’s going to be, Gross? You’re just going to criticize all of my decisions, now?” 

“Oh yeah,” he says, sipping his water. “I mean, I wouldn’t have to, if you had decent taste in anything. Ever.” 

She smacks him on the back of his head lightly. “You just think anything that’s not in another language, has less than ten polysyllabic words per sentence, or wasn’t created before 1800 isn’t a piece of media worth consuming.” 

“Am I wrong, though?” 

“Am I wrong, though?” she repeats, mocking him. “Newsflash, Ben. Liking pretentious things doesn’t mean you automatically have class.” 

“Wouldn’t think you knew anything about class, considering the way you dress.” 

“This coming from the guy who had about thirty-five different pairs of Jordans in high school and dressed like a hippie on an acid trip.” 

He scowls at her. “At least I can say my fashion choices have improved over the years. Not much I can say for you.” 

“Upgrading from stupid patterned shirts to button downs isn’t much of an improvement, Ben. You’re literally twenty-three. Why do you dress like an investment banker from Italy?” 

“Some of us dress for the job we want to have, instead of the one we do.” 

She rolls her eyes. “You’re just so pretentious.” 

“I’m not, though!” he protests. “I’m just sophisticated, you know.” 

“Ben,” Devi drawls. “You literally told me the other day you preferred Studio Ghibli over any Disney movies,” 

He spreads his arms out in confusion. “I’m not  _ wrong, _ am I? You love  _ Spirited Away. _ Not a bad choice, although we both know  _ Princess Mononoke _ is the best.” 

“False,” she says, accepting her plate as the waitress sets it down. “You are absolutely  _ delusional _ if you’re going to ignore  _ Howl’s Moving Castle. _ Like, I’m sorry, I’ll just have to break up with you.” 

“You are right,” he relents, scowling at her when she steals his fries. “God, David, get your own.” 

She hums, shoving her potatoes his way. “Here.” 

“Good. Anyways, I agree with you,  _ Howl’s Moving Castle _ is amazing.” 

“Yeah, it is,” she says, dipping her—technically his—fries in the milkshake, ignoring the way his lips curl. “But no regular person would ever just say that. It’s a sign of how much of a pretentious dickhead you are.” 

“I like mainstream things.” 

“Oh really?” she counters. “Like what?” 

Ben steals some of her pasta, wincing as she smacks his hand with her own. “Uh,  _ Westworld. The Good Place. Brooklyn Nine-Nine. The West Wing.” _

“Sometimes I wonder,” she ponders, tapping her finger against her chin, “if you actually have to try to  _ not _ be a jackass, since it seems like it’s coded into your DNA to be a jackass.” 

“I gave you a bunch of good options!” 

“You gave me  _ Westworld. _ You don’t have any rights for watching that.” 

“Fabiola watches that.” 

“Fabiola is a badass bitch and will have more rights than you any day of the week.” 

“I literally think you hate me sometimes,” he chuckles. 

“Only some of the time? Damn,” she quips, her eyes sparkling with mirth. “I must be getting soft.” 

“Yeah,” he smirks, stealing a bit of her milkshake and sipping it. “We both know you’re soft for me.” 

She blushes at that, unexpectedly, and one of his favorite things about dating Devi is how he can make her embarrassed still, make her flustered and flush for him, even after almost a whole decade of dating him. “Stop,” she mutters. 

Ben presses his lips to her temple, quick and soft. “You like it.” 

Devi steals another one of his french fries and tucks herself more firmly into his side. “Shut up.” 

He raises his hands. “I’m just stating facts, David.” 

“Yeah, well, a fact is that you just have ridiculous taste in everything ever.” 

“I don’t know,” he says, watching her to study her reaction carefully. “I think I have pretty good taste in girlfriends.” 

Devi blushes again. “You’re such a casanova. What are you even trying to do?” 

“Isn’t it obvious? I’m trying to sweet-talk you.” 

“Keep trying, buddy. It’s not working.” 

Ben brushes his hand over the curve of her shoulder, sweeping her hair off her neck. He desperately wants to press his lip there, but they’re in public and he doesn’t want to embarrass her. 

“You sure about that?” 

She pokes him in the side with her elbow. “Yes.” 

“God, you’re a tease,” he grins. 

Devi winks at him. “Makes it fun, doesn’t it?” 

(that is one of the most important things about being with devi, she makes things  _ fun. _ she makes him feel young and happy and whenever he laughs with her he thinks of sunset clouds and rainbow imprints on the sky, when he is with her he is as light as a eagle using the winds to fly) 

“I always have fun with you, babe,” he says, voice warm.

Devi sets her fork down and presses a kiss to his jaw. “You know,” she murmurs, “you don’t need any special moves to get me to like you.” 

Ben reaches out and trails a finger down the side of her face. “God, you’re pretty,” he breathes. 

Devi blushes fully now, pink spilling down her neck, and she ducks her head, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “Charmer,” she murmurs. 

He sweeps his eyes down the slope of her neck, admiring how smooth her skin is, and he slips his arm around her waist, tucking her into his side. “Does it count as charm if it’s true?” 

“Still definitely counts as charm. But feel free to tell me how hot I am all the time.” 

Ben kisses her cheek. “Will you tell me how hot I am?” 

“You’re trying for something,” she laughs. Devi dips the last of his fries in her milkshake, popping them into her mouth. 

“I am not,” he protests, weakly. 

Devi reaches up and pats his jaw, mockingly. “You are, babe.” 

Ben rolls his eyes. “You’re really full of yourself.” 

“All thanks to you.” 

Devi sighs. “Ok, you lothario. Finish your dinner so we can go home.” 

(a spark in his chest ignites at that,  _ home. _ they’re going to go to their home, and they’re going to build a life there. ben has been living a life with devi in it for almost twenty years, he has been living a life with her for as long as he can remember. the human brain only starts to form real, cognizant memories at the age of five, so devi lives in most of his most prominent memories, an important part of his life he never wants to remove. but now he is not just  _ living _ a life with her, he is  _ building _ a life with her, and he cannot wait to go home) 

“I’m done,” he announces, leaving the last of his dinner untouched. Devi blinks at him in shock. 

“Are you ok?” 

“Yeah. I just—really want to get home,” he murmurs, skating his fingers down her spine. “What do you say? Movie night?” 

Devi raises an eyebrow. “Only if I can pick the movie.” 

“I’m literally the one who owns the apartment. And I’m letting you live there. Rent free.” 

She pouts at him, batting her lashes dramatically. “Come on, Ben?” 

He groans. “Why?” he says, looking up at the ceiling at no one in particular. “Why must you do this to me?” 

Devi kisses his temple. “Thanks, babe.” 

She slides out of the booth, and Ben does as well, pulling out his wallet and dropping enough cash on the table to cover their bill and a tip. 

‘“So.” Devi wraps her arm around his as they step out of the diner, the cool September air ruffling her hair as they walk down the sidewalk. “Does this mean we can watch the  _ After _ movie tonight?” 

“I’m breaking up with you,” he says, tone dead serious. 

She giggles, bumping her shoulder into his. “I’m glad I found a foolproof way to get rid of you if you ever start to annoy me too much.” 

“I thought I did that at least thrice a day,” he quips back, stuffing his hands in his jean pockets. 

“Oh, you do.” Devi tucks a strand of hair behind her ear and flashes him a smile, half simpering and half genuine. “My patience is wearing thin day by day.” 

“Hmm,” he says, tugging her closer to him. “Are you sure it’s smart to move in with me, then? You might find your patience wearing thin insanely quickly.” 

“After dating you for this long, I’m surprised I haven’t gone insane already.” She gasps dramatically, stopping him in his tracks. “Oh my god, I  _ am _ insane. That’s how I’ve been able to date you for so long.” 

Ben rolls his eyes. “Almost eight years, babe.” 

Devi’s mouth parts slightly, and she stares at him in shock. “Eight years?” 

“Why am I always the one reminding you of this?” Ben asks. “You’re the girl. Shouldn’t you know this?” 

“Are you seriously going to say we should subscribe to traditional gender norms? Ben, if we were to get mugged right now, which one of us do you think could take down the guy faster, you or me?” 

“Definitely you, I’ve seen the way you react when the chocolate milk is gone from the fridge,” he says, laughing, ignoring the offended gasp she lets out, “and no, I’m not saying we should subscribe to traditional gender norms. I’m more than happy to remember all of this for the both of us. I just find it hilarious how you never seem to remember the year.” 

“I just—lose track of time with you.” 

Ben stops, pulls her close to him and kisses her in the middle of the sidewalk in New York City. Devi kisses him back gently, soft and sweet and chaste. Her lips are chapped and she tastes like chocolate, sweet and thick. Her lips are cold, but she is warm in the night air. 

Devi curls her hands into the lapels of his jacket and tugs him closer, pressing her mouth against his,  _ hard, _ and Ben slides his hand around her waist to pull her in closer. “You’re lovely.” he whispers. 

She pulls back from him fully, shaking her head. “I swear, you gotta stop saying stuff like that to me.” 

“Why?” he asks, as they resume their walk back to their apartment. 

“Oh, hey,” she says instead, stopping about a block away from their apartment. “Look.” She points at a flower vendor, who has tons of bouquets stuffed on the cart. “They’re so pretty.” 

Ben reaches into his jacket pocket and pulls out his wallet. “Here,” he says, handing the vendor a five and getting a rose in return. He hands it to Devi, who blushes brightly. “There you go.” 

“Sap,” she mutters, burying her nose in the rose. Ben makes a mental note to get her flowers as often as he can, whether or not it’s a special occasion. 

Ben smiles at her. “Yeah,” he says, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “You know that.” 

Devi grips the other flower in her hand and tucks her hand into the crook of his elbow as they continue down the block that their apartment is on, walking up the short steps when they reach the front door of the building. 

“You know where I’ve always wanted to live?” she says, as he opens the door. 

Ben gives her a dry look. “We  _ just _ moved into this apartment.” 

“I’m just saying!” she protests. “I would love to live in a classic New York brownstone, you know?” She pulls her keys out of her purse and unlocks the door, and he follows her in, locking the door behind him. “The kind with the stairs leading up to it, the wood floors.” 

Ben rolls his eyes as he pulls off his jacket, hanging it up in the closet opposite the kitchen. “So what, you want to go through all of that again? Moving and the boxes and stuff?” 

“No,” she calls, disappearing into their bedroom. “Obviously not. But I don’t know—I always saw those apartments on TV and in movies and I thought that would be like, a great place to live. Like the one Kathleen Kelly lives in.” 

“Who?”

“Meg Ryan’s character in  _ You’ve Got Mail? _ Come on, Ben, we’ve seen that movie at least like, three times, already.” 

“We’ve?” He walks into the bedroom and opens his dressers, pulling out his pajamas. 

Devi glances up from where she’s tugging on her pajamas. “Yeah, we, you idiot.”

Ben shoots her a confused look as he slips his wallet out his jeans before changing into his pj pants. “I don’t remember that movie.” 

“Joe Fox? The Shop Around the Corner? Do you not remember the movie at all, Ben?” She plants her hands on her hips and tilts her head. “Seriously?” 

He scratches his head, brows furrowing. “When was the last time we watched that?” 

“I don’t know.” She walks into their bathroom, pulling her hair up as she goes. “Like, sophomore year of undergrad, maybe?” 

“That was like.  _ Years _ ago. How can I be expected to remember that?” 

“I mean, I did.”

Ben rolls his eyes, pulling the alpaca blanket off of the couch and opening it up, laying it over the couch and switching the TV on. He has pretty much every streaming service one could think of, so it’s up to Devi what she wants to watch tonight. 

She comes out of the bathroom a moment later, face freshly scrubbed, and he glances up from his phone to smile at her. 

“So,” he asks, as she settles next to him, tucking herself into his side and laying the blanket over the two of them. “What are we watching tonight?” 

_ “You’ve Got Mail, _ obviously.” 

He groans, wrapping his arm around her shoulders. “Really? Why?” 

“Cause, clearly I’m not doing a good job educating you on romantic comedies if you’re this confused about them. Now,” she says, patting his leg. It makes him think of the way one would pat a dog, or something like that, and he’s strangely comforted by the motion. “Shut up and watch.” 

Ben grumbles, fishing his phone out of his pocket. “David, really?” he groans. 

Devi grabs his phone from his hand and turns to him. “Come on, Ben,” she whines. “You agreed. We’ll take our date pic, and then we’ll watch the movie.” 

He ducks his head down and presses a kiss to her collarbone. “Fine,” he sighs, in agreement. 

“Well,” she says, frowning at him, “we can’t take a photo with you looking miserable.” 

She pinches his cheek, hard, like a grandmother might after seeing you for a long time. “Perk up.” 

Ben cracks a smile at that, huffing out a laugh. “The amount of which I love you must be a lot to do this.” 

Devi grins back at him, and then presses her cheek to his, holding the phone up so they could snap a quick picture. She navigates and drops the photo in the correct album. “I’m glad to see you’re so intimately knowledgeable regarding my phone,” he says, dry. “Is there something I should know?” 

“Oh, yeah,” she quips, handing his phone back to him. “I know all about the side pieces you have, and I’m hotter than all of them.” 

“I don’t know about that, David,” he laughs. “Sidepiece #3 is pretty hot, in my opinion.” 

“Sidepiece #3?” she smirks, turning the TV on. “You don’t even have the decency to remember her name?” 

“You’re the only one whose name I remember, babe,” he murmurs, pressing a light kiss to her neck. 

“Can’t decide if that’s a compliment or an insult.” 

“Definitely a compliment,” he decides. 

Devi sighs, tucking her head under his chin as the movie begins to play. “Just shut up and watch the movie.” 

He tries to, he does, but he just can’t keep his eyes open and soon sleep overtakes him. A day of moving and going out to eat has really worn on him. 

He wakes up a few hours later with Devi’s nose tucked into his chest, their legs tangled together on the couch. The movie is long over, and he reaches down to brush her hair away from her forehead and press his lips there. 

(he loves her, he loves her, he loves her. not like fire loves oxygen or the sea loves crashing against the stones, but like the moon loves the stars and like the flowers love the ground. something simple. immutable. constant) 

Ben shifts, getting ready to pick her up and carry her to bed, but Devi clutches at him, shaking her head half-asleep. “No,” she murmurs. 

“Babe,” Ben whispers, crouching down. “We gotta get some sleep. We need to be getting rest.” 

Devi shakes her head. “I know,” she sighs, eyes fluttering as she pulls herself closer to him. 

Devi falling asleep in his arms is not an unusual occurrence, in fact, it’s a regular one, ever since she stayed at his place in sophomore year. She’d fallen asleep with him holding her for nearly a solid week, when that happened, and Ben had never slept so well before as he did with her in his arms. 

“I know, babe,” she murmurs, voice thick with sleep. “But stay here, please. Don’t wanna—get up. Pl’se.” 

Ben smiles softly, and he can already feel his eyes getting heavy as well. He shifts up back on the couch, stretching his legs out. “You don’t want to spend the first night in our new apartment in our bedroom?” 

She shakes her head stubbornly. “Want you here,” she yawns. 

“Ok then,” he whispers, shifting so that he can slide one arm around her waist and press the other one between his shoulder blades. “We can sleep here.” 

Devi’s hair brushes his collarbone as she shifts, wiggling on top of him, and Ben rests his head against the arm of the couch and closes his eyes, sliding his hand up and down her back, brushing a bit of her skin when it slides down to the small of her back. 

They fall asleep like that, on the couch of their first home together. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> your comments and kudos help me pass my midterms! come talk to me about the show! you can find me on tumblr: @[parkersedith](https://parkersedith.tumblr.com)


	6. vi. not-date one (ten years, seven months, and five days)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _“I’m begging you,” Ben pleads, voice low in her ear, “put me out of my misery.”_
> 
> _“Are you kidding me?” Devi hisses. “You’re the one putting me out of my misery. I’m not letting you die and leave me alone with these assholes. Come on, be a gentleman and stab me with a fork.”_
> 
> _“That’s called murder, David,” he points out, rather unhelpfully, she wants to add._
> 
> _“It’s a mercy killing at this point.”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> honestly i have nothing to say other than this is the sappiest shit i've ever written and that's on that we cope how we cope ladies and gents
> 
> for anyone who's been a personal victim of: drugstore john mulaney and a dude whose name is a mash-up of the beatles
> 
> this is so unedited like i gave it a glance two weeks ago and another quick fifteen minute one i'm just so beyond caring ✌️✌️
> 
> i know a lot of you guys are a bit stressed about the state of america (or maybe i'm just projecting my anxiety onto you) so i thought this could help. idk, i hope it does. and, most importantly, if you can, _please, please, please_ go vote 💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙!!!!!!!!!!!!

“Ben!” Devi barks. 

“What?” he calls back. 

“Get over here!” 

“Devi,” he groans, shuffling over to her, rubbing a hand over his face, “you are well aware you’re screaming at me during  _ our _ engagement party, right? People are going to wonder if we’re in an actually healthy relationship.” 

She crosses her arms, glaring at him. “You forgot the second bag of ice for the cooler, didn’t you?” 

“What?” he says, confused. “No, I swear, I didn’t.” 

Devi sighs, pressing her hand against her forehead tiredly. “Yeah, you did.” She glances around the mostly empty rooftop, strung up with fairy lights, the refreshment tables set off to the side, the open bar—because Ben is a rich jackass who wants people to know he’s a rich jackass—the DJ who’s currently setting up at the far end of the roof. She plants her hands on her hips. “Ok, I think we’re good, right?” 

Ben gives her a once over. “Well, yeah,” he says, smirking. “The space is good. I’m not so sure about you.” 

“What?” she says, giving him a baffled look. 

Ben points to her. “You’re gonna show up wearing that, babe?” 

Devi looks down at herself and groans. “No,” she sighs. She picks at her loose t-shirt—an old one she stole from Ben in literally like, sophomore year of college, five years ago—and her ratty jean shorts. “No, I brought a change of clothes,” she says. “I’ll go get dressed.” 

“Not saying you wouldn’t look great in everything, but I think you had something else in mind,” he smirks, wrapping an arm around her waist and pulling her in.

Devi pats his chest condescendingly. “I already agreed to marry you, Gross,” she snorts. “You don’t need to sweet-talk me anymore.” 

Ben grins at her. “So what? You’re saying you want me to stop?” He runs a hand down her arm and curls his hand around hers, bringing it up to press his mouth against her knuckles for the quickest second. 

Devi smiles. “Not if you don’t want to.” 

He leans forward and kisses her quickly, sending a burst of sunlight into her stomach. “Good.” 

“I’ve got to go get dressed,” she says, kissing his jaw quickly before pulling herself out of his arms. “See you in a little bit?” 

Ben checks his watch—a fucking Rolex, and god, sometimes she wants to hate him, but she can’t—and nods. “Yeah. We still have like, a half-hours until everyone is supposed to arrive.” 

“Perfect,” she breathes. “I’ll see you soon.” 

Devi ducks down the rooftop into the stairway, unlocking the door to their apartment building. She dresses quickly, brushing her hair out, applying her minimal makeup as quickly as possible, slipping in the diamond studs Ben got her for their fifth anniversary. She looks over at her dresser and smiles, reaching a hand out to run her fingers over the gladioli Ben had gotten her this morning. 

If she thought Ben had spoiled her when they had been dating, it was nothing compared to the way he spoiled her when they had gotten engaged. He doted on her, ridiculously, and the hopeless romantic in the center of her soul adored it. 

Devi rubs her thumb against the band of the ring, glancing down at it. Ben had had a whole plan, she knows, something elaborate and well-thought out, but just for the two of them, but he’d ended up asking her to marry him one day when they were at home getting take-out. 

Part of her hadn’t really been surprised, because at that point she and Ben had celebrated their tenth anniversary five months ago, but she’d still been a bit overwhelmed, insanely happy. 

Devi bites down on her lip to stop the stupid grin from crossing her face as she continues to look at the ring: a simple round cut diamond with smaller ones studded into the band. She doesn’t want to think about how much Ben spent on it, because he’s a little ridiculous when it comes to things like that, but she couldn’t refuse him this. 

She finishes getting dressed and heads back up to the rooftop, much more confident on heels ten years later. The rooftop is full of people now, mingling around, chatting, and she greets them all as she passes, smiling and laughing, accepting their congratulations. 

“Hey, you,” Ben greets, wrapping an arm around her shoulder. 

“Hey,” she says back. She leans in a bit, and he tilts his head so she can whisper in his ear, “I don’t know like, thirty percent of these people.” 

“That’s people on my side of the aisle, I think,” he whispers. “Some of the partners at the firm and their spouses and romantic partners. Plus a lot of the other associates. Do you want me to introduce you to them?” 

Devi wrinkles her nose. “And spend  _ more _ time with stuffy, arrogant lawyers? No thank  _ you,” _ she stresses. “I get my fill of it with you.” 

“Romantic,” he drawls.

She kisses his cheek. “Love you!” 

“Yeah, yeah,” he grumbles, fingers flexing at her waist. “Thank you for that.” 

She laughs loudly, forgetting, for a quick second, that she’s technically supposed to be mingling, talking to other people and accepting their congratulations on her recent engagement. The thing is, she likes Ben a lot more than almost any other person in the world, and she’d rather talk to him over anyone else at this part. 

(devi thinks about black holes and dark matter, how we cannot actually  _ see _ them, but we have to study their effects on things around them, planets, with black holes, the rotational curve of the galaxy, with dark matter. it all comes down to how it affects other things, and she thinks loving ben is a lot like that. she can’t see it, but she can feel it, see how it affects their lives just like dark matter affects how much the rotational curve of the galaxy drops off) 

“Do you really need me to tell you I love you, Gross?” she smirks. “I’m marrying you.” 

“That’s right,” he quips. “You are marrying me. Don’t you think we should go talk to other people right now? After all, this  _ is _ our engagement party.” 

She groans. “Really?” she whines. 

“David,” he says, slightly condescendingly, and she’s tempted to smack him on the back of the head, which is not exactly a good look for them at their  _ engagement _ party, “we have to talk to these people? We invited them, remember?” 

“Remind me why?” she groans. “Neither of us are exactly big party people.” 

He snorts. “Yeah, your track record concerning those has never been sterling.” 

“Shut the fuck up,” she says, jabbing him playfully with her pointer finger. “There are like, six people here who know that.” 

“Who did we invite from back home anyways?” he says, glancing around the rooftop. 

“Uh, my mom and Kamala and Prashant, obviously. El and Fab. Oh, and Rebecca brought Paxton.” 

“Yeah, I made sure Trent got an invitation as well.” He frowns. “I don’t think anyone else from California is here, right? It’s mostly just all New York people. A few old college friends.” 

“Devi!”

She turns around to see Eleanor and Fabiola waving at her. “Oh, I’m gonna—” 

Ben waves his hand. “Go, go,” he says, smiling. “I’ve got to go and mingle with some of the partners anyways.” He winks at her. “I’ll let you know if I need some arm candy to sweeten the deal.” 

Devi winks back, pressing a kiss to his cheek lightly, before wiping off the faint lipstick stain with her thumb. “I’ll let you know if I need some arm candy.” 

“I’m not just arm candy, David. I’m the whole package.” 

She backs away from him, grinning. “Signed, sealed, delivered.” 

“I’m yours,” he calls, before vanishing into the crowd, and Devi turns around to find El and Fab leaning against the bar, sipping their drinks—Eleanor a  _ Sex on the Beach, _ Fabiola nursing a whiskey—the exact type Ben wishes he could drink, but is never nearly as good at as Fab. 

(fab can outdrink all of them, except rebecca, devi thinks, and it’s literally the most unfair thing in the world, cause both she and ben are fucking  _ lightweights) _

“Were you and Ben just quoting Steve Wonder to each other?” Eleanor says, daintily sucking at the orange slice garnish. “God, you guys are sickening.” 

Devi rolls her eyes. “We haven’t seen each other in person in six months, and  _ that’s _ the first thing you have to say to me? You guys are horrible friends.” 

Fabiola laughs, setting her drink down on the bar and wrapping her arms around Devi. “God, it’s been way too long,” she says. 

“Yeah,” Devi says, smiling sadly at her. “I miss you, Fab. You gotta move here!” she whines. “Eleanor is already here.” 

Fabiola rolls her eyes. “Yeah, well, Eve agrees with you guys. She’s been pushing me to move out of Silicon Valley soon. She says it’s “too expensive” for two lesbians.” 

“And how is she?”

“She’s doing great. In fact,” Fabiola says, pulling up her sleeve, exposing a tattoo of a motherboard on her arm, “she gave me this.” 

“Fucking cool,” Devi says. “I’ll take a glass of Dom Pérignon,” she says, to the bartender, before turning back to her friends. “That makes you look totally badass.” 

“Not as fucking cool as this!” Eleanor squeals, grabbing Devi’s left hand and holding it up in the light. “I knew Benjamin had decent taste in  _ something.” _

“Wow, thanks, El,” she drawls, smiling at her friend. “You didn’t think he had good taste in girlfriends?” 

“I think he has fantastic taste in exactly one thing: you. Other than that, I’m on the fence,” Eleanor quips. Devi accepts the champagne from the bartender and sips it, enjoying the way it bursts on her tongue. “Anyways, have you guys set a date?” 

“El, we got engaged literally like, two months ago.” 

“Yeah,” Eleanor says, dragging the word out. “Which is like, plenty of time to start planning a wedding.” 

Devi rolls her eyes. “Well,” she says, “we need to have two weddings. One for all the white people, and an Indian one, obviously.” 

“Sounds expensive,” Fabiola comments. 

Devi waves her hand. “It’s Ben.” 

“Yeah, bleed him dry,” Eleanor smirks. 

“But they’re getting married, El,” Fabiola points out. “What’s his is hers now. If she bleeds him dry then she won’t get anything when she eventually ends up killing him.” 

“Oh, fair enough.” 

Devi rolls her eyes. “I’m not going to kill Ben, guys. I’ve lived with him long enough to put up with all of his shit. Plus, we’ve been dating longer than like, half of the marriages I know. I think if I was going to kill him, I would have done it by now.” 

“I don’t know about that,” Eleanor hums. “Marriage changes people.” 

Devi shakes her head, taking another sip of her champagne. “Thanks for the support, you guys.” 

Eleanor leans over and pulls her in for a hug. “You know we are stupid happy for you though, right?” 

Devi smiles softly. “Yeah, I do.” 

When she’d told them that Ben had proposed Eleanor’s shriek had blown out her eardrums, and Fabiola had smiled wider than Devi could ever remember. She’d been insanely happy that her friends had been supportive of her decision, especially since she’d been a bit nervous about telling her mom. 

“God,” Eleanor groans, taking a large gulp of her drink. “You’re fucking sickening, and you,” she says, pointing at Fabiola, “are shacking up with your hot girlfriend. Meanwhile, I haven’t had a guy give me a decent orgasm in like, months.” 

“Eleanor!” Devi says, a little scandalized. “My mother is here.” 

Eleanor waves her hand. “Is she here  _ now?” _

“No, but—” 

“Honestly, Devi, loosen up,” Eleanor drawls, taking another sip of her drink. “You’re getting laid on the regular, why are you so  _ tense?” _

Devi flushes bright red. “I think we need to cut you off,” Fabiola says, slowly reaching for Eleanor’s drink. 

“Fab,” Eleanor says, “this is the first weekend I’ve been free in  _ months. _ I swear to god, I will kill you with this fruity umbrella if you take this drink from me.”

“There are a lot of single guys here, El,” Devi smirks. “Most of them work with Ben or I. Not bad choices.” 

“Right,” Eleanor says, condescension and mockery dripping off the one word. “And how many of them are arrogant doctors or lawyers who’ll try to mansplain things to me within thirty seconds of meeting me?” 

Devi winces. “Ok, fair enough,” she admits. “There’s a few of those around.” 

“I don’t even need a love connection,” Eleanor mutters, right into her drink. ‘“I seriously just want to get laid.” 

Fabiola huffs a laugh, shaking her head. “You know you could get any guy you wanted, Eleanor.” 

“Damn straight,” Eleanor snorts. “I just don’t want any of the ones who hit on me.” 

Devi laughs, and sips her drink. She feels a pair of arms slide around her waist, and the scent of sandalwood fills her nose. She grins, turning her head to brush her nose against Ben’s cheek. “Hey, babe.” 

Ben kisses her cheek. “Can’t believe you left me to the vultures while you got to have fun with all of our friends.” 

“Benjamin.” Eleanor raises her drink. “Nice to see you again.” 

“You say me like, four days ago, El,” he points out. Ben flashes a smile at Fabiola. “Hey, Fab. Nice to see you.” 

“Good to see you two, Ben. Congrats.” She nods towards them. “Can’t believe you guys are like, fucking engaged.” 

Devi grins at him, slightly too wide, happiness warming her more than any champagne ever could. “We are.” 

Ben bumps her nose against her cheek gently, a bit clumsily, eyes shining with affection. “We are.” 

Eleanor groans. “How are you two so perfect?” She shakes her head. “Giving me unrealistic expectations for everyone I meet. Unfair and frankly, it should be illegal of you two.” 

Ben pulls back from her to stand at her side, drumming his fingers against the bar. “Uh, I’m not really sure how to respond to that.”

“Just let me know where I can bleach my eyeballs out,” Eleanor grins. “I asked your fiancée here if you had set a date, and she had no idea for me.” 

(god, she’s going to  _ marry _ ben. she’s going to spend the rest of her life with him, and for someone who’s gotten used to running away from her emotions, she can’t even imagine doing that now. all she wants to do is spend as much time with him as possible. they have the rest of their lives, now) 

Ben glances at her. “Well, I don’t want to disappoint you, but it’s not going to be any time soon. We’re both way too busy.” 

Devi winces. “Yeah. Fair enough, he just started at his new firm and I just started at the hospital. There’s no way we’re getting married for like, at least a year.” 

“If I’m not your maid of honor, I’ll riot. Remember the triad?” 

Eleanor is referring to the plans she and her friends made back when they were in the fifth grade, where they would do a sort of merry-go-round of being one another’s maid of honor. 

Eleanor was Devi’s, Devi’s was Fabiola’s, and Fabiola was Eleanor’s. 

“I object to that,” Fabiola snorts. 

“What do you mean?” Eleanor says. 

“Didn’t you just say that you’re insanely single? I don’t want to have to wait forever to maid of honor someone.” 

“I hate your guts,” Eleanor states flatly. 

Fabiola just smirks, while Ben and Devi exchange an amused look. “Don’t look at me like that,” he murmurs, scattering kisses across her temple. “She’s  _ your _ friend.” 

“Yeah, but you encourage her dramatics,” Devi rebuts, relaxing into him. 

“You now, I can hear you talking about me over there,” Eleanor scowls. “You guys are  _ not _ as subtle as you think you are.” 

Devi knits her brows together. “What are you talking about?” 

“Please,” Fabiola snorts. “Remember that time we caught them in the music room making out.” 

“Or the time in the library.” 

“The ice cream place!” 

“Oh, the theater,” Eleanor adds. 

“How about the time they disappeared at the New Year’s Eve party senior year and didn’t show up for like, two hours,” Fabiola snorts. 

“Ok!” Devi shouts. “We get it.” 

“You guys—noticed that?” Ben says, voice strangled. He’s flushing bright red now, and Devi buries her face in his shoulder, groaning. 

Eleanor grins. “You guys think this is bad, you have  _ no _ idea what we have planned for our toast.” 

“Babe,” Ben says, voice punctuated with fear, “why did you let them give a toast?”

“I don’t know!” Devi says, pulling her face away from his shoulder. “Maybe cause they’re my best friends.” 

Her friends just smirk back at her. “I’m gonna need to get drunk at my own engagement party, aren’t I?” she groans. 

Devi feels a tap on her arm, and she turns, seeing Rebecca standing there. “Devi!” 

“Becca!” Devi pulls herself away from Ben and wraps her arms around Rebecca, hugging her tightly. “I’m so glad you came!” 

“I couldn’t miss this!” Becca says. She pulls back and lets her eyes roam over Devi’s outfit. “And you wore one of my dresses!” 

“Of course,” Devi says, smiling back. “It was perfect.” 

She spots Paxton standing behind Rebecca, and smiles at him. “Hey, Pax.” 

Paxton grins at her, that same heartbreaker smile that used to make her heart flutter when she was in sophomore year. It doesn’t make her heart flutter, not, but it warms her, the same way any smile from a friend warms her. 

She and Paxton had decided on being friends, and the longer they spent being friends, the more she had been sure she and Paxton were better off that way. They were too different to be good for each other, and they just worked better that way. 

“Hey, Vishwakumar,” he says. “Come here.” 

Devi gives him a tight hug, and Paxton shakes Ben's hand. “Congrats, guys. Always knew you’d make it.” 

Devi wraps her arm around Ben’s waist, smiling when he kisses her temple. “Seriously?” 

Paxton shrugs, stuffing his hands in his pockets, shoulders hunched like they’d perpetually been in high school. He looks almost exactly the same, save for a shadow of stubble crossing his jaw. “Yeah. You guys were like, super in love.” 

Rebecca smiles at them. “I’m really happy for you two. You’re a great couple. Oh, and let me know if you need wedding tips. I went through the circus after Cameron and I got married, and I can save you a lot of money.” 

“Great,” Eleanor mutters, almost to herself, jostling the ice in her drink with the stem of her straw umbrella. “So everyone and their mothers are dating.” 

Rebecca wrinkles her nose. “Oh, don’t feel upset, Eleanor. You don’t want to date any guy in this city.” 

Paxton’s eyes sweep over her friends, settling on Eleanor. “Hi,” he says. 

Eleanor doesn’t even look up from her drink as she trills her fingers in a wave. “H-Y. Glad to see you brought your better half.” 

Devi bites back a grin at the shocked look on Paxton’s face. The only person in the world she’s ever heard talk to Paxton like that besides Eleanor is Rebecca, and she can tell Paxton still has  _ no _ idea what to do about it.

“Um, I’ll take a scotch,” Paxton says. 

Eleanor glances up at him for the first time when he says that. “Of course you drink scotch.” 

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Paxton asks. “Another way I’m a racist?” 

Eleanor scowls at him. “Whatever.” 

Fabiola leans over, out of earshot of the two of them. “Thirty bucks says they hookup at the end of the night.” 

“I’ll take she slaps him instead,” Ben says. 

Devi snorts. “I’m not taking that bet. I’m not an idiot.” 

“Love you too, babe.” 

Devi pats his shoulder. ‘We gotta go mingle with other people. “We’ve been standing here  _ way _ too long.” 

“Oh yeah.” They bid goodbye to their friends and break off, mingling with the rest of the party. It’s only because Ben is by her side that she’s really able to get through it all—Devi’s never really been that great at making new friends, hence why her longest friends are people she’s known for over half her life. 

(they’ve been engaged almost two months, now, and devi doesn’t think she’ll ever get over the giddiness that coils in her stomach when she focuses on the way the ring feels against her hand, when she thinks about waking up next to him for the rest of her life, when she thinks about his hand in hers and continuing their life together. she has a life with ben by her side, now, and she’s going to enjoy every minute of it) 

“So,” she says, to him, as they exit a throng of Ben’s paralegal co-workers, “you ever going to tell me how you put up with jackass lawyers like that?” 

“You always call me a jackass lawyer,” he laughs, leaning against the edge of the roof, a little away from the party. 

Devi curls her hands into his jacket. “You’re my jackass lawyer, though.” 

“Hmm,” Ben hums. “And that makes a difference?” 

“Yeah,” she murmurs, ghosting her mouth against his. “It means I can kiss you whenever I want.” 

“Really?” His eyes sparkle in the night, blue fire, warming her like a campfire might. “Well, I think that’s a nice perk.” 

“Me too,” she whispers, just before she presses her lips to his. 

Devi sighs as Ben’s tongue sweeps across her mouth, parting her lips to dive into her own. He tastes like scotch, and it makes something in her stomach burn, burn with a barely restrained desire. Kissing Ben is kinetic energy, pure, unrestrained energy. It is odd, in fact, because when he kisses her, everything around them falls to absolute zero, all movement stopping, except for them. When he kisses her, she finally thinks she might understand what the Big Bang was like, an explosion of being. 

She melts into him when his hand skims up her back, pressing between her shoulder blades. Ben kisses her like wildfire kisses trees, like storm surges kiss ocean boulders. He kisses her like sunshine kisses flowers and icicles kiss branches. Like she is a natural phenomenon, and he is in awe of her. 

Devi breaks away from him, swiping her thumb across his lower lip to wipe some of his lipstick away. “I love you,” she murmurs. 

“I love you too.” 

She breathes out. Ben slides his hands from her back and wraps them around her own, lifting her hands up to press another kiss to her knuckles. His thumb gently runs over the ring. “Do you know how long I had this before I asked you?” 

“Um, a week?” she says, furrowing her brows. 

Ben grins, shaking his head. “Nope. Since senior year of college.” 

Devi’s eyes bug out. “That long? Ben, that’s like, three and a half years!” 

“Yeah,” he says, grinning sheepishly. He tilts his head in an almost boyish way, distractingly charming. “Yeah, well, I’ve known I wanted to marry you for a long time.” 

Devi blinks at him, blushing. “How long?” 

Ben shrugs, tugging her even closer, pressing herself against him. “I don’t know,” he answers. “It’s been a long time, though. Maybe back since sophomore year of college?” 

She feels heat crawl up her body, from the center of her heart. “You’re such a fucking sap.” 

“You like it.” 

“I do.” 

Ben leans forward and presses another kiss to her lips before he pulls away. “I’m going to go make sure dinner’s getting here soon.” 

“See you,” she says. 

Ben squeezes her hand once, before walking away. She breathes, resting her elbows on the edge of the roof, looking out over the city. 

It’s beautiful, in the night, and the lights twinkling around her remind her of fireflies. California fireflies aren’t bioluminescent, but she’s seen them before, and they remind her of husky twilight kisses and peach juice sticky fingers, summer childhood. 

She breathes, lips curving up at the sounds of the party behind her. These moments are some of her favorites, looking over the city and taking it in, slowly and carefully. 

“Hi, kanna.” 

Devi turns to see her mom smiling at her softly. 

“Mom!” Devi says. She throws her arms around her mom and hugs her tightly, pulling her close. “I’m so glad you could make it.” 

Nalini pats her back, a bit awkwardly, before drawing away again. “I wouldn’t have missed this for the world.” 

Devi swallows roughly, fingers nervously playing with one another. “So—what do you think?” 

Nalini glances around them, a glass of Riesling in her hands. “Lovely party,” she comments. “I wouldn’t have had the DJ play such abysmal music, of course, but I’ve had a good time talking to your co-workers. You know, you should start thinking about inviting the chief of cardio—” 

“Mom,” Devi interrupts, smiling a bit tight. “Thank you, but I’m an adult. I can control my own life now.” 

Nalini frowns at her. “I’m just trying to help, Devi.” 

“And I appreciate it!” she rushes to correct herself. “I can just do this on my own. I was more asking what you—thought about Ben.” 

“Oh.” Her mother blinks, coming to stand next to Devi, setting her glass of wine down on the ledge. “What I thought about Ben,” she repeats. 

Devi feels nausea rise up in her gut as her mother stands there, silent and still. She knows her mother likes Ben—well enough, at least, as much as Nalini Vishwakumar can like anyone, especially the guy who’s dating her daughter. 

But liking your daughter’s high school boyfriend is very different from liking your daughter’s husband, and Devi desperately wants her mother’s approval. She’s going to marry Ben, no matter what, because she loves him more than life itself, but she can’t deny that her mother’s approval means a lot to her. More than she wants to admit, probably. 

“Yeah. I know he’s—not exactly who you thought I would be marrying,” she says. 

She’s not dumb. Devi knows that she was expected to marry a nice, quiet Tamil boy, instead of a white Jewish kid, she knows that Ben wasn’t who her mother envisioned for her, but she loves Ben. She can’t imagine marrying anyone else, and she doesn’t want to. It’s her choice, wholly. 

“That’s fair,” Nalini comments, tilting her head to the side. “He certainly was not who I would have chosen for you.” 

Devi’s hand shakes. “Yeah.” 

Nalini looks over at her, and smiles. “But it’s not my choice. It’s yours, first of all. Your choice to decide who you want to spend the rest of your life with. And second,” she breathes, looking out over the ledge, taking in the city, “Benjamin...is not the worst choice you could have made.” 

Devi has spent long enough with her mother to read between the lines, and so she sees this for what it is. A blessing. “Really?” 

Nalini nods. “You have been dating him for ten years, kanna. If I really didn’t like him, I would have told you by now.” 

“So you think he’s good enough?” 

Her mother snorts. “No, obviously not. Nobody will ever be good enough for you. But,” she pauses, careful, “Benjamin is an acceptable choice. A good man.” She smiles at Devi. “He makes you happy, doesn’t he?”

“Yeah. Really happy, Mom.” 

“Good.” Nalini laces her hands together, purses her lips. “Your father made me very happy,” she says, softly. “And I didn’t even choose him. I was extremely lucky for love to grow between us. You and Ben are starting off with that. I trust you, Devi.” Nalini smiles. “And I’m very proud of you.” 

Devi blinks in shock, the warmth at hearing those words pooling in her stomach. “Really?” 

Nalini places her hand on Devi’s shoulder and squeezes it, giving her a soft smile. “I always have been, and I always will be.” 

Devi blinks back tears. “Thanks, Mom. That means—it means a lot to me.” 

(and it does. she and her mom have always been opposites, have been diametrically opposed to one another on so much her whole life. devi has fought with her mother more than perhaps anyone in the world—but she also loves her mother like no one else in the world. and knowing that—that her mom is happy with her, approves of her choice, is  _ proud _ of her means more than any gift she could ever get) 

“Plus,” Nalini says, a smirk twisting over her face, “it was quite entertaining listening to Benjamin blabber on when he called me to inform me he was planning on proposing to you.” 

Devi’s mouth drops open in shock, and she lets out a little laugh. “What?”

“Mmm,” Nalini says, sipping her wine and biting back a smile. “A very interesting phone call to receive.” 

“What did he say?” Devi laughs.

“Essentially that he wanted to inform me that he was just letting me know he was planning on proposing to you and that he would appreciate my blessing, but he was going to do it whether or not I gave it. Gutsy, but admirable. I made him sweat, though.” 

“You what?” she screeches. 

“I wasn’t just going to let him take you away without making him sweat a bit first!” Nalini protests. 

“Oh, come on, Mom. You’ve known Ben for like, twenty years. And you’ve gotten to know him better over this past ten. You just wanted to see him nervous.” 

“Can you blame me?” Nalini smirks. “Anyways, I gave him my blessing, of course. I was very pleased, actually. He is a very good man, and he loves you.” 

Devi shakes her head. “Mom, you’re insane.” 

“Don’t talk about me like that,” Nalini says, but her eyes are sparkling. “Just protecting my daughter.” 

“I appreciate that, I guess,” Devi laughs. 

Nalini reaches over and pulls Devi in for a momentary hug. “Good job, kanna,” she whispers. “Still hate the DJ, but the rest is good.” 

Devi hugs her mom back before she vanishes back into the crowd, looking for Ben. She’s waylaid on her quest multiple times, from various guests and friends offering their congratulations, but eventually she manages to fend the rest of them off to find her fiancé standing by the bar, accepting another glass from the bartender. 

She wraps her arms around his waist and presses a kiss to his cheek—usually one to  _ avoid _ PDA, but considering it’s their engagement party, she thinks she gets a little bit of a reprieve—sighing when he drops one on her hairline in return. “Don’t get too wasted, ya lush,” she murmurs. “I don’t want to have to pour you into our bed tonight. Or explain away why my fiancé is passed out at our own engagement party.” 

“Might I remind you we’re on the roof of  _ our _ building?” Ben points out. “We’re like, two floors above our place. You wouldn’t be pouring me anywhere.” 

Devi tilts her head, just catching a glimpse of his blue eyes as he glances down at his drink, swirling the amber liquid in the crystalline glass. “How many drinks have you had tonight? You’re a lightweight.” 

He snorts. “I take offense to that.” 

She pats his side, squeezing gently. “You are, and you know it, babe. Learn to deal.” 

“You’re a lightweight too,” he rebuts. He shifts so he’s facing her, leaning against the bar. “Coyote Girl?” 

“You know what the sad thing is?” she remarks. “That’s still the coolest nickname I’ve ever been given.” 

Ben laughs, lifting his drink up to his lips and taking a large sip. He winces slightly, and he swallows, setting the glass back down on the table. “Ugh,” he groans. 

“Be careful,” Devi says, raising an eyebrow. “Why are you drinking that so quickly, anyways? Weren’t you the one that told me scotch was supposed to be “savored,” not chugged?” she mocks. 

Ben just tilts his glass towards the back of the rooftop. “That’s why.” 

Devi turns around to see Eleanor and Fabiola standing, a crowd forming around them. There’s a large screen behind them and from what Devi can see, Eleanor looks just a tad bit drunk. 

“Hey guys!” Eleanor says, and with a shock of horror, Devi realizes she’s holding a microphone. 

“Oh no,” she whispers. 

“Yup,” Ben says, grimly. 

“Yeah, ok, I’ll take a drink,” Devi says, but then the crowd is pushing her and Ben towards the front of the crowd, just a few feet away from Eleanor and Fabiola.

“Hello, everyone,” Fabiola says, next to Eleanor, and dear god, she’s holding a microphone too, and Devi thinks she might die. This is going to be  _ so _ bad for her.

“Some of you might now know us,” Eleanor says, with a magnanimous flip of her hair. 

“We’re Devi’s best friends,” Fabiola buts in. “We’ve known her for what—twenty years, now?” 

“Yup.” 

“Yeah, twenty years. Which means we’ve also known Ben for twenty years.” 

“Yeah, not sure how many of you know this, but the happy couple has known each other since they were five years old. Been dating for the past ten. And we’ve been there for  _ all _ of it.” 

“Wait a second, El,” Fabiola says. Devi tries desperately not to cower back into Ben. “Where is the happy couple?” 

“Oh, fuck,” Ben mutters. “Push me off the building, please.” 

She whimpers as all of the eyes in the room swivel to her. “Now that we’re getting married, if you don’t take me with you, I  _ swear _ I won’t come to your funeral.” 

“There they are!” Eleanor grins at them, slightly manically, grin wide, eyes dancing gleefully. 

They’re so fucked, it’s not even a little funny. 

“Why are you hiding in Ben’s shirt?” Eleanor smirks. 

“El,” Devi says, trying her best to keep the terror out of her voice. “Hi. What are you doing?” 

“You see, ladies and gentlemen, Ben and Devi look like they’re about to run out of here because they know what this toast is.” 

“Eleanor,” Fabiola says, and for a second, Devi thanks the  _ gods _ her sensible best friend has come to rescue her from her other slightly tipsy friend’s antics, until a smile crosses Fabiola’s face. “You’re going to scare them away.” 

Eleanor snorts. “Ok, well, firstly, I’d just like to say, we are very happy for you two.”

“Yeah, we really are. You guys are great together, and we love you both.” 

“We definitely love Devi more, though.” 

“Oh yeah, that’s a given.” 

Devi shakes her head, smiling slightly. “Can’t believe those are your friends,” Ben murmurs, as he raises his glass to Fabiola and Eleanor. 

“Yours too,” she says, through clenched teeth. 

“But,” Eleanor says. “I don’t think many of you know just how long these two have known each other. They met in what—kindergarten?” She turns to Fabiola, raising an eyebrow. 

Fabiola nods. “Kindergarten. And they  _ hated _ each other.” 

The crowd bursts into laughter as Devi buries her face in Ben’s neck. “We’re dead, aren’t we?”

“Yeah,” he sighs. 

“Well, if it wasn’t hate, definitely a strong mutual dislike.” 

“Strong mutual dislike,” Ben mutters, mocking them. “Great, tell our story for us.” 

“We do have a great story, though,” Devi relents, tilting her head. 

He presses his lips to her temple. “That’s true.” 

“Anyways,” Eleanor says, loudly, drawing their attention back into the crowd. “I still remember Devi swearing on pain of death she’d never kiss Ben back in fifth grade. I don’t know about you guys, but she looks pretty alive to me right now.” Eleanor smirks in Devi’s direction, and Devi resists the urge to flip her best friend off. 

“Things change, Eleanor!” she shouts. 

Eleanor laughs. “That’s true, but the one thing that never changes is how these two argue. I swear to god, whatever complaints you have about them, we have you beat. Remember the time they got into a two-hour argument on the pros and cons of a dairy-free diet?” 

“Ben once said he’d rather eat dirt than ever agree with her on anything.” Fabiola tilts her head to the side, and Devi watches as Ben’s face explodes pink. “Better start agreeing now, buddy.” 

The crowd titters, and Devi just shakes her head, clutching her wine glass and forcing herself to take a sip instead of the giant gulp. “Fuck. I can’t believe these two.” 

“I literally hate them,” Ben says, deadpan. “Why are we friends with assholes?” 

“Because we’re assholes too and we love them and this is God’s way of punishing up.” Devi takes another sip of her drink. “We’re facing the music.” 

“Oh,” Fabiola says, “there was also the time they got into a screaming match once because Ben had claimed Devi kicked him and made him trip and that was why he came in second in the relay race at school!” 

“It was!” Ben protests. 

“No,” Devi says, patting his chest mockingly. “It wasn’t. You’re just stupidly slow.” 

“Glad to see your sweet talking has improved with age.” 

Devi gingerly takes his drink out of his hands. “Would you like some chamomile tea?” she says, saccharine sweet. “Calming effects, babe.” 

“I don’t need to be calm,” he bites out, snatching the glass back from her. “I need to be drunk to survive this.” 

“Hey!” Eleanor barks, drawing their attention back to them. “We’re  _ talking _ to you two here. Could you  _ stop _ flirting for twenty seconds and drag your attention back to us?” 

“It’s our party, you know,” Ben points out. 

Eleanor snorts, waving a graceful hand. “We both know I’m the star of any room I step into.” 

Ben rolls his eyes as Eleanor resumes her speech. “But,” she says, “anyone who actually knows Ben and Devi knows they fight about everything.” 

“Absolutely everything,” Fabiola cuts in.

“I guarantee you there is not a single thing you can think of they haven’t fought about already.” 

“And if we don’t know about it,” Fabiola mutters, “that just means we werent there to hear about it.” 

“We don’t fight that much,” Devi protests, and then slaps her hand over her mouth when she realizes that she’s accidentally said that much louder than she intended to.

“Yeah!” Ben agrees. 

“Look, we just agreed on something,” she points out, feeling a bit smug. 

Eleanor rolls her eyes dramatically. “Stop interrupting my toast,” she groans. “Jesus Christ.” 

“Our toast, El,” Fabiola corrects. 

“Right.” Eleanor looks a touch chagrined—or maybe she’s just more drunk than Devi thought—before getting back on track. 

(devi gets a warm feeling in her stomach, though, like sunlight hitting flower petals, the feeling she always gets when she knows she is making a good, worthwhile memory. something that she holds onto like pharaohs hold onto afterlife objects. beyond even the plane of her existence) 

“Our toast. Anyways, we just wanted to say, we’re really happy these two are getting married, of course.” 

“Mostly because now we can just tell everyone they’re a married couple when they bicker like one,” Fabiola smirks. 

The crowd laughs, and Devi is seriously contemplating how sharp the little toothpicks on the side of the table are, and if she can successfully stab herself with one of them. 

“It gets annoying, after a while,” Eleanor says, “listening to them argue about every topic under the sun. My personal favorite is when they spent a whole week in senior year of high school going back on forth on who was the best James Bond.” 

“It was obviously fucking Connery,” he says. 

“Connery’s movies are so sexist, Ben! Clearly it’s Craig.” 

“And,” Fabiola says, her voice carrying over the crowd. “I can see you two starting to argue about that already, so shut the fuck up.” 

“Jesus Christ, when did Fab get mean?” Devi crosses her arms, melting back into Ben’s chest when he pulls her closer, dragging his lips gently over the curve of her jaw. 

“Relax, babe.” 

“Of course Devi was right,” Eleanor smirks, causing Ben to jerk upright. 

“Excuse me!” he protests. 

Eleanor ignores him. “Ben has terrible taste in most things, except girls. How he managed to snag a catch like Devi, I’ll never know.” Devi bites back a grin as Ben flushes pinker at the sloppy, half-drunk and poorly concealed wink Eleanor shoots him. 

“This is true,” Fabiola adds. “But for such an old married couple, these two were always pretty good with the PDA in high school.” 

“Yeah, they mostly just made out on the DL,” Eleanor adds, and Devi thinks her heart stops in her fucking  _ chest. _

“Eleanor!” she shrieks. “My mother is here!” 

“Oh god.” Ben looks deathly pale. “She’s going to kill me before I can ever get a chance to marry you. Seriously, slowly kill me.” 

Eleanor waves her hand. “Your mother knew, Devi. Don’t be dumb.” 

Fabiola adds, “she did.” 

“I’m begging you,” Ben pleads, voice low in her ear, “put me out of my misery.” 

“Are you kidding me?” Devi hisses. “You’re the one putting  _ me _ out of my misery. I’m not letting you die and leave me alone with these assholes. Come on, be a gentleman and stab me with a fork.” 

“That’s called murder, David,” he points out, rather unhelpfully, she wants to add. 

“It’s a mercy killing at this point.” She buries her face in her hands, flushing bright red. “I hate them so much.” 

“Again, your friends.” 

“But,” Eleanor says, smiling softly, and genuinely, “we are  _ very _ happy for them. Like, really.” 

Fabiola raises her whiskey glass. “Congrats, guys. And Ben, if you ever hurt her—” 

“—we’ll be right there to help Devi hide your body,” Eleanor finishes, smirking. 

“You guys are terrifying,” Ben groans, even as he raises his own glass. 

“Oh!” Eleanor says, hopping off of the stage, “and we have a surprise for you two.” 

Devi looks at Ben, who shrugs. “Do you have any idea?” 

“So the other day, Ben let me borrow his phone, and he probably shouldn’t have, but it did let me take this from it.” 

Eleanor clicks a remote, and on the screen behind her, the photo from their first date appears. Devi drops her glass. “Oh my god,” she breathes. 

“I can’t believe I still had that,” Ben murmurs, rubbing circles into her hip. 

“Ben and Devi have taken a photo for almost every date they’ve been on,” Eleanor explains, “so Fabiola and I put together an album for you guys.” She waves her hand, and Fabiola appears at their side, handing Devi a heavy album. “And, we have a digital version running up behind us.” 

Devi blinks back tears, as Ben reaches over and runs his fingers gently over the cover. “You guys did this?” 

Eleanor tucks herself underneath Ben’s arm, while Fabiola wraps her arm around Devi’s shoulders. “We really do love you guys.” 

“We love you too,” Devi murmurs, hugging her friends. 

Eleanor breaks off and waves to the DJ, starting the music up again. “Well,” she grins. “This  _ is _ a party. Come on, Benjamin.” 

Ben shoots Devi a horrified look as Eleanor drags him out on the dance floor. Devi just grins and trills her fingers in a wave after him, laughing. 

“So,” Fabiola says, tilting her head. “You’re happy?” 

(fabiola’s eyes search her own, like an explorer searching for spice routes and golden swords, like a cosmonaut searching for supernovas and comets. the way she smiles, though, like the sun peeking out from behind the clouds, makes devi think that she has found whatever she is looking for in her eyes. and devi feels the last, little, resilient piece of her doubt wither and die, leaving room for only fresh, new growth)

“Yeah,” Devi says. “I’m happy.” 

Fabiola smiles. “Good.” 

She chats with Fabiola for a little while longer, before pulling herself away, forcing herself to mingle with some of her older coworkers at the hospital for the sake of not being completely and utterly rude to them, as their host. When the sun starts to dip even lower in the sky, night bleeding into the day, the music melts away, and she sighs, leaning back on her elbows as she watches the crowd start to pair off. 

Devi takes a sip of her drink and closes her eyes, lets the warm summer wind ruffle her hair. She thinks she could stand here on her rooftop for the rest of her life, to freeze this moment in absolute zero, hold it in her heart. 

There are some memories she knows she will never let go of. 

She startles slightly when she feels a hand tap her shoulder, and she opens her eyes to see Ben holding his hand out. 

“Ben?” She raises her eyebrow, setting her glass down on the edge of the roof, placing her hand in his.

He pulls her out onto the dance floor and wraps his arm around her waist, tugging her flush against him. “We have to dance at our own engagement party, don’t we?” he murmurs, grazing the curve of her cheek with his nose. 

Devi shakes her head slightly, resting her other hand on his shoulder, stepping just a bit closer to him as they sway, slowly, to the music. Neither she and Ben are particularly adept dancers, but she’s always loved the closeness that dancing with him brings, a new level of intimacy when she can hear his heart beat in tandem with hers. 

“Such a sap,” she whispers back. 

Ben shifts so that his eyes are looking right into hers, and—instead of losing her breath, like she normally does around Ben, suddenly Devi feels her lungs expand with air, giving her the ability to breathe. 

His eyes are the exact same color as the shard of sky by the edge of the horizon, and his smile is brighter than the sun. “Yeah,” he says. “Just for you.” 

Devi resists the urge to roll her eyes at how ridiculous he is, settling instead on pressing a kiss to his cheek—if the brush of her lips against his skin can even be called that. “Please tell me you’ll get better with time.” 

“I’m like a fine wine, David,” Ben smirks. “I start out good, but I just get better with age.” 

She groans, shaking her head. “You’re ridiculous, you know that?” 

“I’m right though, aren’t I?” 

Devi sighs as Ben’s fingers dig delightfully tight into her hips, tugging her closer to him. He leans down and kisses her neck, and her eyes flutter for a split second before she forces them open and tries to focus on his face. “I wouldn’t know,” she gasps. 

Ben pulls away from her. “You’ve got a while to realize I’m right, now.” He grins, pulling on her wrist, and she follows him around the corner. 

“Ben?” 

“You know what I realized?” he says, instead of answering her question, as he pushes open the door that leads from the roof back into the hallway of their apartment building. 

“What?” she says, still utterly baffled. 

“I haven’t really gotten a chance to kiss you since we started this,” he breathes, and then, before Devi can really say anything back—what, though, she has no idea—his mouth presses against hers, hands twisting into her hair. 

Devi grapples at his collar clumsily, tugging him in, slanting her mouth against his harder to deepen the kiss, pulling him impossibly close. She has kissed Ben thousands of times, over the past decade, knows exactly the ways in which he can overwhelm her when he kisses her, and yet, she never gets tired of it. She doesn’t think that’s possible. All she wants is for him to kiss her for as long as possible, to ignore the call of oxygen and stay here, mouth pressed against hers like she’s the only thing he ever needs. 

Ben shoves her up against the wall, one hand tightening in her hair, drawing a moan from her lips, as the other one skims down the line of her back, fingers dragging against the path of her spine. His hand wraps around her waist, drawing her flush against him even as he presses her into the wall harder, and her head spins. 

His hand on her waist is  _ scalding, _ so hot she can feel it through the layers of her dress, and the heat bleeds from him into her, through her skin, settling in her muscles and spreading out, tendrils of heat soothing her. 

Ben’s tongue sweeps into her mouth, and he tastes like scotch, and it’s addictive, so much so Devi finds it impossible to pull away, even as her lungs burn for more oxygen. 

(ben is her soulmate not because he is the love of her life, not because he is her best friend, but because he knows her. he knows her in the same way michelangelo knew david, in the same way sylvia plath knew the bell jar. he knows her in the same way sunlight knows forest trees and in the same way the tides know the sea. because he understands her)

Devi arches into him helplessly as Ben’s mouth pulls away from her own, and he scatters kisses along the length of her neck. She sighs, cards her hands through his hair, and every time his mouth brushes against her skin, it is like a supernova exploding in her veins. 

Ben scrapes his teeth under her jaw gently, sucking a mark there, and Devi moans, nails scraping at his scalp. “You’re—” 

“Lots of things, babe,” he rasps, showing no signs of slowing down. “Right now, though, I think I just want to keep kissing you.” 

Devi nods dumbly, her head clouded and dizzy as he pulls her closer, and god, kissing Ben is like—like something out of a fairy tale, or a greek myth. Kissing him is something she thinks was never meant to be described, like the way poetry written on gas station bathroom walls looks when it rubs off. 

“I love you,” she breathes. “I’m in love with you.” 

Ben kisses her collarbone, right and left, methodically, purposefully, like there is absolution hidden in her skin, salvation thrumming in her bones. “Say it again.” 

“Ben,” she breathes, complying. “I’m in love with you.” 

“Ten years.” He kisses her all over her face; lips, neck, eyes, cheek. “And I don’t think I’ll ever get tired of hearing that. I love you, Devi.” 

(he could say it a thousand times and it would never be enough for her. there is a reason why there are so many songs and poems and plays written about love. we have not yet found a way to describe it. devi cannot describe what it does to her when he says he loves her, only that she likens it to the feeling of watching two galaxies merge, overwhelming, celestial, and bold)

“Thank god,” she laughs, fingers pulling him closer when he sucks at her pulse point. “Because otherwise things were going to get really awkward.” 

Loving Ben is as easy as breathing. As natural as the blood pumping in her veins. It has become a part of her autonomic nervous system, behaviors and instincts coded into her veins. She’ll love him beyond herself, she thinks. 

She can practically hear Ben roll his eyes as he kisses her throat, making his way back up to press his lips against hers again, softer and sweet, this time. She bites back a stupid, breathy sigh of contentment, but there is something about Ben that makes her feel like every girl in all those 1950’s black and white movies, that makes her feel like Annabel Lee must have felt, that makes her feel like sunlight and a shipwreck all at the same time. 

Devi rests her hand at the nape of his neck, pressing the other one against his chest, and kisses him slow, this time, feeling it burn through her body like warm honey, like magma, the kind that creates new land. 

“Disgusting,” she hears, and Devi groans internally, breaking away from Ben and burying her face in his shoulder.

“Seriously? You guys couldn’t wait thirty minutes?” 

“Go away,” Ben says, dragging his hands through her hair. 

Devi pulls away from him to find Eleanor and Fabiola exchanging a glance. “You guys are acting like horny teenagers on prom night.” 

“From my memories of prom night,” Ben mutters, “I certainly don’t remember  _ you two _ being there when we started making out.” 

“You must be really delusional then,” Eleanor snaps, “because you made out like six times in front of us.” 

“What do you want?” Devi grumbles. She kind of just wants to get back to kissing Ben. 

Fabiola arches an eyebrow. “Considering this is your party, and your pizza just arrived, I thought you might want to mingle with other people? You know, so you don’t ignore all your coworkers and have them be pissed off at you the next day.”

Ben shoots Devi a look. “They might be right.” 

“Yeah,” she murmurs, curling her hands into the collar of his shirt and tugging him impossibly closer. “But my idea involves us staying here and continuing to make out, so which is really better?” 

“Definitely yours,” he breathes. 

“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” Eleanor groans. “You guys have like, forever to make out now, ok? You seriously don’t want to ignore everyone,  _ come on.” _

Devi scowls at her best friend, but follows her out the door back onto the roof. She’s right, anyways. 

The rest of the night passes quickly, and as it gets later and later, people start filing out, until it’s just the two of them and Fabiola, left on the rooftop. 

Fabiola gives Devi a quick hug, squeezing her tightly. “Eve says congrats,” she murmurs. “And to say sorry she can’t come. She’ll be here for the wedding, of course.” 

“Are you kidding me?” Devi laughs. “If you guys haven’t moved out here by then, I’m  _ dragging _ you out with me.” 

Fabiola shakes her head, giving her a deadpan look, before it softens into a small smile. “Ok, then.” 

Devi glances around, worried, suddenly. “Where’s Eleanor?”

Fabiola bites back a smirk. “I’m pretty sure she left. With Paxton.” 

Devi raises an eyebrow. “Well, I’m sure we’ll hear all about it.” 

Fabiola laughs and gives Ben a quick hug. “For sure. Bye, guys. I’ll see you for brunch tomorrow?” 

Devi nods, slotting herself into Ben’s side as she waves goodbye. “Thanks for coming, Fab.” 

She rests her head on Ben’s shoulder, closing her eyes. “God,” she breathes. “We should just elope. I’m exhausted.” 

Ben laughs, pressing his lips to her hairline. “That actually sounds like a good idea,” he agrees. “Come on, babe.” 

She holds Ben’s hand as she shuffles down two flights of stairs and into her apartment, sighing in relief when she can finally kick off her shoes. 

“I just want to sleep forever,” she murmurs, rubbing at her eyes. 

Ben pulls her into the bathroom and gently pulls the pins out of her hair, carding his hands through it until the strands fall loose and relaxed across her back. Devi bites back a moan of bliss as his hands rub at her scalp, soothing the pain. “Ok,” he says. He presses his lips to the curve of her shoulder as his hands fall from her hair and smooth down her arms. “Wash your face. I’ll get you your pjs.” 

Devi runs water over her face as Ben ducks out of the bathroom, rubbing away all of her makeup as quickly as possible. Ben’s dressed in flannel pants and a soft t-shirt, and Devi pulls off her dress and gets into her own night clothes, pulling back the covers and collapsing into bed. 

“So,” Ben says, leaning over and switching off the light, plunging them into darkness, “how was today?” 

She turns to him, and although she can’t see his face, his blue eyes still glow, just barely there from the moonlight. “Today was good,” she murmurs, closing her eyes. 

Devi feels his hand come across her waist, and he pulls her back into him, tucking her head into his chest. “Love you,” Ben murmurs.

“Love you too,” Devi breathes back. 

Ben’s hand loosens around her waist as he falls asleep, and Devi lets her body relax into the bed sheets as sleep pulls her down. 

Devi tangles her legs with his, and lets herself succumb to the bliss of sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> your comments and kudos seriously help me during uni, guys, so thank you for the ones you leave, and i appreciate every one you want to leave. and, if you don't leave either, that's totally ok, just please, please, go vote!!! 💙💙💙💙💙 you can find me on tumblr: @[parkersedith](https://parkersedith.tumblr.com)

**Author's Note:**

> your comments and kudos make me happier than nalini with her grandfather clock! come talk to me about the show! you can find me on tumblr: @[parkersedith](https://parkersedith.tumblr.com)


End file.
